THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST 

AS   REPRESENTED   IN   ART 


LEBEAU  DIEU  D'AMIENS 

From  Vie.  sculpture  on  wesljront  ofJlmiens  cathedral. 


COPYRIGHT,  1894, 
BY  MACMILLAN   AXD   CO. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  September,  1894.     Reprinted 
December,  1894. 


Xortoooti  $3rr88 : 

J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  — Berwick  &  Smith. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO 

THE   EIGHT   HONOURABLE 
THE  SPEAKER  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS 

THESE  PAGES 
ARE  GRATEFULLY  AXD  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 


PREFACE. 


"  Vagliami  il  lungo  studio,  e  '1  grande  amore." 

—  DAXTE,  Inf.  I.  83. 

I  DO  not  in  this  book  presume  for  a  moment  to  intrude 
upon  the  functions  of  the  Art  Critic,  or  to  enter  into  fields 
of  technical  inquiry  outside  the  range  of  those  studies  in 
which  my  duty  lies.  I  do  not  forget  the  rule  of  the 
younger  Pliny :  De  pictore,  sculptore,  fusore  judicare  nisi 
artifex  non  potest.1  Art  is,  indeed,  a  matter  of  common 
human  concern,  and  every  man  of  ordinary  education  has 
a  right  to  an  opinion,  if  not  upon  its  technical  qualities, 
yet  at  least  upon  the  thoughts  which  it  conveys  and  the 
influence  which  it  exercises  over  his  own  mind.2  I  trav- 
elled on  the  Continent  when  I  was  a  very  young  man, 
and  from  the  first  it  was  my  habit  to  make  notes  — 
never,  of  course,  intended  for  publication  —  on  the  chief 
pictures  in  the  great  continental  galleries.  Many  of  the 
pictures  to  which  I  refer  in  the  following  pages  are 
described  from  careful  personal  examination,  although 

1  Plin.  Epp.  I.  10. 

2  Mr.  Holman  Hunt,  in  a  letter  which  I  received  from  him  in  1891, 
says:   "It  has  always,  increasingly  with  my  experience,  seemed  both 
surprising  and  unfortunate  that  men  of  culture  who  are  without  pretence 
to  knowledge  of  the  technical  qualities  in  Art,  do  not  enough  express 
their  feelings  about  the  works  which  sculptors  and  painters  and  indeed 
architects  do.  .  .  .     England,  of  late  years  particularly,  has  suffered  from 
want  of  large  independent  expression  of  feeling  on  Art." 


vi  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

I  have  frequently  and  intentionally  adduced  the  words 
and  opinions  of  others  who  have  a  greater  right  to  be 
heard.  This  book  has  not  been  written  from  love  of  Art, 
deep  as  my  love  of  Art  is,  but  because  I  wished  to  illus- 
trate the  thoughts  about  religion,  and  especially  about  our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  of  which  Art  has  eternized  the  ever- 
varying  phases.  The  great  painters  when,  as  was  the 
case  with  many  of  them,  they  were  men  of  deep  religious 
feeling,  have  often  preached  mighty  sermons.  The  im- 
port of  their  teaching  may  be  familiar  to  those  who  are 
able  to  read  it,  but  for  the  most  part  the  old  masters 
address  the  multitude  in  an  unknown  tongue.  I  have 
sometimes  endeavoured  by  lectures  to  my  own  parish- 
ioners, and  in  provincial  cities,  to  pave  the  way  in  the 
minds  of  others  for  that  delight  in,  and  consolation  from, 
great  works  of  Art  which  I  have  myself  constantly  enjoyed. 
I  know  by  many  testimonies  that  such  efforts  have  been 
successful  in  making  our  National  Gallery  a  source  of 
pleasure  and  advantage  to  boys  and  youths  of  the  working 
classes,  who  had  previously  looked  on  some  of  our  richest 
possessions  with  a  listless  and  unintelligent  gaze.  It  is 
my  hope  that  in  this  book  I  may  extend  that  benefit  to 
a  larger  number. 

I  say  with  Mons.  Lafenestre,  "  Tout  ce  que  nous  pou- 
vons  faire,  nous,  pauvres  e'crivains,  admirateurs  des  grands 
artistes,  c'est  d'apprendre  a  les  aimer,  c'est  d'enseigner  a 
les  voir."1  But  my  object  has  been  more  sacred  than  this. 
Art  cannot  deceive.  It  is  an  unerring  self-revelation  of 
the  character  both  of  nations  and  of  individuals.  Hypoc- 
risy may  veil  itself  in  literature ;  it  may  lurk  behind  the 
outward  conduct  of  men.  But  Art  invariably  betrays  her- 
self when  she  attempts  to  mislead  us  by  mere  pretence. 
The  Art  of  every  age  and  country  infallibly  reflects  the 
tone,  the  temper,  the  religious  attitude,  of  which  it  is  the 
expression.  In  Art,  insincerity  and  unreality  become  cer- 
tain of  detection  when  they  try  to  pass  themselves  off  as 

1  G.  Lafenestre,  La  peinture  Italienne,  I.  7. 


PREFACE.  vii 

religion  pure  and  undefiled.  "Great  nations,"  says  Mr. 
Ruskin,  "write  their  autobiographies  in  three  manuscripts, 
— the  book  of  their  deeds,  the  book  of  their  words,  and  the 
book  of  their  art.  Not  one  of  these  books  can  be  under- 
stood unless  we  read  the  two  others ;  but  of  the  three,  the 
only  quite  trustworthy  one  is  the  last." 

If  any  one  desires  a  near  and  striking  proof  of  this  fact, 
he  has  only  to  walk  thoughtfully  through  Westminster 
Abbey.  Let  him  read  the  pompous,  futile,  interminable, 
and  often  lying  epitaphs  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
compare  them  with  the  In  Christo  or  In  pace  of  the  Cata- 
combs, or  the  three  words,  Cornelius  Ep.  Mart.,  which 
sufficed  for  the  grave  of  a  Pope,  a  Martyr,  and  a  Saint. 
Let  him  contrast  the  eighteenth-century  piles  of  incon- 
gruous statuary  —  their  meaningless  Paganism,  their  crude 
vulgarity,  their  conventional  commonplace,  and  their  affec- 
tation of  being  terribly  at  ease  in  Sion  —  with  the  noble 
images  of  dead  Crusaders,  their  hands  humbly  folded 
upon  their  breast.  The  antithesis  between  the  way  in 
which  life  and  death  were  regarded  by  an  age  of  belief, 
however  erring,  and  an  age  in  which  scepticism  and  world- 
liness  were  prevalent,  is  written  on  the  walls  and  tombs  of 
the  Great  Abbey  in  language  which  all  may  read. 

My  desire,  then,  has  been,  among  other  things,  to  indi- 
cate the  influences,  upon  Christian  Art,  of  the  faithful  or 
unfaithful,  the  pure  or  superstitious,  the  deeply  devout  or 
the  wholly  undevout,  feelings  of  the  epochs  and  the  artists 
by  whom  it  was  produced.  Such  sketches  of  the  treatment 
of  the  Life  of  Christ  in  Art  as  are  here  given  should  have 
a  real  importance  as  indicating  the  great  phases  of  relig- 
ious thought  which  have  changed  and  are  changing  from 
age  to  age. 

Among  the  numerous  books  which  I  have  read  and 
consulted  I  can  scarcely  include  Lady  Eastlake's  edition 
of  Mrs.  Jameson's  History  of  Our  Lord  in  Art.  I  pur- 
posely refrained  from  making  any  use  of  it  until  my  own 
manuscript  was  nearly  complete,  because  it  deals  with 


viii  THE  LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 

analogous  though  not  identical  considerations.  My  book 
was  practically  finished  before  I  referred  to  it,  —  though 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Jameson's  other  works ; 
but,  reading  it  after  my  own  labours  were  concluded,  I 
see  that,  as  I  expected,  the  object,  the  scope,  and  the 
manner  of  treatment  adopted  by  that  charming  and  ac- 
complished writer  differ  so  widely  from  my  own,  that  1 
am  in  no  sense  going  over  ground  already  traversed. 

Although  Art  properly  includes  sculpture,  architecture, 
and  music,  it  is  chiefly,  though  not  exclusively,  of  painting 
that  I  shall  speak.  My  illustrations  will  be  largely  drawn 
from  those  great  Italian  masters  of  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries  whose  supremacy  is  generally  acknow- 
ledged. To  the  Dutch,  German,  and  Flemish  painters 
—  deep  as  is  the  feeling  expressed  by  men  like  Albrecht 
Diirer,  Hans  Memlinc,  the  Van  Eycks,  the  Holbeins,  and 
by  Rembrandt  at  his  best  —  I  shall  refer  less  frequently; 
and  to  the  far  inferior  Spanish  painters,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Velasquez,  scarcely  at  all.  I  am  in  no  sense  pre- 
tending to  write  either  a  history  of  Art  or  an  exhaustive 
treatise  on  one  branch  of  it.  I  only  desire  to  enhance  in 
readers  to  whom  the  subject  may  be  unfamiliar  an  intelli- 
gent appreciation  of  great  works  of  Art,  and  to  shew  how 
they  express  and  illustrate  the  thoughts  of  generations  on 
the  greatest  and  holiest  subject  which  can  occupy  the 
mind  of  man. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

PREFACE v-viii 


BOOK  I. 

RESERVE   OF   THE   EARLY   CHRISTIANS   IN  PAINTING 
CHRIST. 

CHRIST  REPRESENTED  BY  SYMBOLS 3 

THE  FISHERMAN  AND  THE  FISH    ......  6 

THE  CROSS  AND  MONOGRAM 19 

INDIRECT  PAGAN  TYPES         .......  29 

HISTORICO-STMBOLIC  TYPES  FROM  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT        .  34 
ALLUSIVE  NEW  TESTAMENT  TYPES.     THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD  37 
SCENES   FROM   THE   NEW  TESTAMENT,  IDEAL  AND  CONVEN- 
TIONAL      ..........  49 

THIS  RESERVE  TAUGHT  BY  THE  EARLY  FATHERS    ...  54 

REASONS  FOR  THIS  RESERVE  61 


BOOK   II. 
PERSONAL   ASPECT   OF   THE   SAVIOUR. 

ALL  TRADITION  OF  CHRIST'S  PERSONAL  ASPECT  LOST  IN  THE 

CHURCH 67 

PRETENDED  AND  LEGENDARY  PICTURES  OF  CHRIST         .        .  79 

ATTEMPTED  PORTRAITS  OF  CHRIST 86 

MOSAICS 89 

YOUTHFUL  AND  BEARDED  PICTURES  OF  CHRIST       ...       92 

ix 


x  CONTEXTS. 

BOOK   III. 
FROM   BYZANTINE   ART  TO   THE   RENAISSANCE. 

PAGE 

BYZANTINE  ART,  A.D.  527-1250 99 

MARGARITONE  OF  AREZZO,  1216-1293 109 

THE  DAWN  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE.     NICCOLO  PISANO  ;  Duccio 

(1200-1330)  ;  CIMABUE,  1240-1302  (?) 115 

GIOTTO,  1266-1336 124 

PROGRESS  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 129 

BOOK   IV. 
CHRIST  AND   THE   VIRGIN   MOTHER. 

THE  MADONNA  DOLOROSA 146 

THE  MADONNA  REGINA.    LA  VERGINE  GLORIOSA.    L'!NCORO- 

NATA 158 

THE  MADONNA  MOTHER 162 

THE  VIRGIN,  CHILD,  AND  ST.  JOHN  BAPTIST  ....  178 

HOLY  FAMILIES 187 

ENTHRONED  MADONNAS  AND  HOLY  CONVERSATIONS       .        .  189 

Ex  VOTO  PICTURES 209 

BOOK   V. 
THE   BIRTH  AT  BETHLEHEM. 

THE  ANNUNCIATION 219 

THE  NATIVITY 232 

ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS 245 

ADORATION  OF  THE  MAGI 250 

BOOK   VI. 
INCIDENTS   OF  THE   INFANCY. 

CIRCUMCISION  AND  PRESENTATION  IN  THE  TEMPLE          .        .  259 

THE  INNOCENTS  AND  THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EGYPT        .        .        .  263 

THE  RETURN  TO  NAZARETH 271 

THE  BOY  CHRIST 279 

CHRIST  AMONG  THE  DOCTORS  284 


CONTENTS.  xi 

BOOK   VII. 
SCENES   OF   THE   MINISTRY. 

PAGE 

GENERAL  SERIES 295 

1.  Giotto.  2.  Duccio.  3.  Fra  Angelico. 

SEPARATE  INCIDENTS 304 

THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST 305 

THE  TEMPTATION 310 

THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT  ......  312 

THE  MIRACLES 312 

THE  MARRIAGE  OF  CANA  .......  314 

THE  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES 315 

MIRACLES  OF  HEALING 317 

THE  MULTIPLICATION  OF  THE  LOAVES  ....  322 

THE  TRANSFIGURATION  .......  323 

THE  EAISING  OF  LAZARUS 327 

SCENES  FROM  THE  PARABLES  ......  329 

SEPARATE  INCIDENTS 329 

THE  MINISTRY  IN  GENERAL 331 

CHRIST  AND  THE  MAGDALENE  ......  338 

BOOK  VIII. 

THE   LAST   SUPPER 

WASHING  THE  DISCIPLES'  FEET 343 

THE  LAST  SUPPER 344 

BOOK   IX. 
THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 

THE  LAST  SCENES  AND  THE  SUFFERING  CHRIST,  AS  TREATED 

IN  EARLY  CHRISTIAN  ART 351 

THE  SUFFERING  CHRIST,  AS  TREATED  BY  ALBRECHT  DURER 

AND  OTHERS 360 

THE  AGONY  IN  THE  GARDEN         ......  374 

THE  TRIALS  AND  MOCKINGS 376 

THE  FLAGELLATION       ........  378 

THE  CROWN  OF  THORNS 383 

ECCE  HOMO 384 

STATIONS  OF  THE  CROSS        .......  386 

THE  CRUCIFIXION.     GENERAL  THOUGHTS      ....  389 

THE  CRUCIFIXION  IN  ART  .                                                  .        .  407 


xii  CONTENTS. 

BOOK   X. 
THE  DEAD   CHRIST. 

PAGE 

THE  DESCENT  FROM  THE  CROSS 421 

THE   PlETA   AND   THE    DEAD    CHRIST,   SUPPORTED    BY   THE 

yiRGIN 424 

THE  DESCENT  INTO  HELL 433 

BOOK   XL 
THE  RISEN   CHRIST. 

THE  RESURRECTION 441 

"  NOLI  ME  TANGERE  " 445 

THE  SUPPER  AT  EMMAUS 448 

THE  INCREDULITY  OF  ST.  THOMAS 451 

THE  ASCENSION 453 

BOOK   XII. 
THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 

ORCAGNA  AND  OTHERS .    459 

MICHAEL  ANGELO .    464 

CONCLUSION. 
IDEALS  OF  CHRIST  IN  ART ,    479 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PRINTED  IN  THE   TEXT. 

PAGE 

Pelican  Symbol,  from  a  signet  ring 7 

Phoenix          "            "              "               7 

Dove  Symbol,  from  the  Catacombs 8 

Fish  and  Anchor  Symbol,  from  the  Catacombs     ....  8 

Dove  and  Fish              "              "                 «            ....  8 

Ship  and  Pharos                                             "            ....  11 

Fish  and  Anchor  Symbol  (two  examples),  from  the  Catacombs  .  11 

Fish  Symbols  (three  examples),  from  the  Catacombs          .        .  12 
Early  Christian  Lamp    .         .        .         .'                .         .         .         .13 

Christ  as  a  Fisherman  —  from  a  bas  relief 14 

"                   "               from  a  gilt  glass  in  the  Catacombs        .  14 

"                    "                from  the  Catacombs       ....  14 

Bronze  Baptismal  Tesserse 15 

Eucharistic  Carp,  from  the  crypt  of  St.  Lucina     ....  17 

"          Fish,  from  the  Catacombs  ......  17 

Dove  and  Fish  Symbol,  from  a  gem  in  the  British  Museum         .  17 

Vine  Symbol,  from  the  Catacombs         ......  18 

Egyptian  Crux  Ansata  .........  26 

Crosses  (ten  different  examples)    .......  26 

Labarum  on  a  coin  of  Constantine 26 

Gemmed  and  Flowering  Cross,  8th  century,  from  the  catacomb 

of  St.  Pontianus 27 

Christ  as  Orpheus,  from  the  catacomb  of  St.  Callistus          .         .  30 

Cupid  and  Psyche,  from  the  catacomb  of  St.  Domitilla         .         .  33 


xiv  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IN  ART. 

P.UJE 

Old  Testament  types  of  Christ  — 

Moses,  from  the  catacomb  of  SS.  Peter  and  Marcellinus       .  34 

"       from  the  Catacombs 35 

Jonah,  from  the  catacomb  of  St.  Luciua         ....  35 

"      from  a  4th  century  gem 35 

Daniel,  from  the  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus     ...  36 
Abraham's  Sacrifice,  from  the  catacomb  of  SS.  Peter  and 

Marcellinus          .........  36 

Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego,  from  the  catacomb  of 

St.  Doinitilla 37 

Hermes  Kriophoros,  from  the  tomb  of  the  Xasones     ...  38 

The  Good  Shepherd,  4th  century  statue,  from  the  Lateran  .         .  38 

"                  "          Apollo  Aristeus,  2d  century         ...  39 

"                  "          with  a  kid,  etc 39 

"  "          three  early  Christian  gems  .        .  .40 

"                  "          from  an  early  tomb 40 

The  Good  Shepherd  and  the  Seasons,  from  catacomb   of  St. 

Callistus 42 

Christ  surrounded  by  vines,  from  the  Catacombs          ...  42 

Good  Shepherd,  from  the  catacombs  of  St.  Lucina       ...  43 

"              from  catacomb  of  SS.  Peter  and  Marcellinus      .  43 

Christ  the  Lamb  (five  figures)  from  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus  46 

"              from  the  catacomb  of  St.  Domitilla    ...  47 

"              from  the  tomb  of  Galla  Placidia         ...  47 

"              from  a  glass  cup 47 

Combination  of  Symbols,  from  a  2d  century  gem  in  the  Kircher 

Museum 48 

Combination  of    Symbols,   from    4th   century   sarcophagus   at 

Velletri 48 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus  (three  examples),  from  the  Catacombs  .  50 

Moses  striking  the  Rock,                                  "                    "            .  50 

The  Good  Shepherd,                                                                          .  50 
Christ  and  the  Samaritan  Woman,                 "                    "           .51 

Christ  teaching  the  Law,                                  "                    "           .  51 

Example  of  the  Youthful  Christ,                     "                    "           .  51 

Christ  crowned  with  Thorns,                            "                    "            .  52 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xv 

PAGE 

Christ  seated  in  Glory,  from  the  Catacombs          ....  52 

Christ  teaching  the  Law,           "             " 52 

Mosaic  of  Christ,  1st  century,  "             " 86 

Attempted  Portrait  of  Christ,  from  catacomb  of  St.  Callistus      .  86 

Another  Example  from  the  Catacombs 87 

Attempted  Portrait  of  Christ,  from  catacomb  of  St.  Pontianus    .  87 
"                    "             from  an  ivory  in  the  Vatican  Mu- 
seum         88 

Wounded  Lamb,  6th  century 90 

Pagan  Caricature,  from  the  Kircher  Museum       ....  94 

Caricature  on  a  Gem 94 

Inscription  in  the  Gelotian  House          ......  95 

Greek  form  of  Benediction 116 

Madonna  and  Child.     Duccio 119 

Cimabue 121 

Madonna  Dolorosa.     Botticelli 149 

"        Dolorosa.     Carlo  Dolci 156 

"        of  the  Crescent  Moon.     Albrecht  Diirer        .        .        .  161 

Madonna.     Perugino 163 

Casa  Conestabile  Madonna.     Raphael 164 

Madonna  Nourrice.     Luini   ........  167 

"        Nourrice.     Bissolo          .......  174 

"        of  the  Rocks.     Leonardo  da  Vinci         ....  179 

Virgin  and  Child.     Michael  Angelo 182 

Holy  Family.     Fra  Filippo  Lippi 185 

Enthroned  Madonna.     Ercole  di  Guilio  Grand!  ....  199 

Santa  Conversazione.     Andrea  Mantegna 201 

Frari  Madonna.     Giovanni  Bellini 203 

Ex  Voto  Madonna  (Roncaglia  family).     Moretto        .        .        .  213 

The  Annunciation.     From  a  sarcophagus  at  Ravenna         .        .  220 

Fra  Angelico 221 

Fra  Filippo  Lippi 224 

Sir  E.  Burne  Jones       .....  231 

The  Nativity.     From  the  Catacombs    .        .                 .        .        .  233 

"              Piero  della  Francesca 236 

"             Antonio  Rossellini       ...  238 


xvi  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

PAGE 

The  Nativity.     Andrea  della  Robbia 239 

The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  from  a  bas  relief  in  the  Lateran  245 

"                  "                       Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo         .        .  249 

The  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  from  Church  of  St.  Vitalis,  Ravenna  250 

"                   "              from  4th  century  sarcophagus          .  251 

"                  "              (two  examples),  from  Catacombs     .  251 

The  Presentation  in  the  Temple,  from  a  5th  century  mosaic        .  261 

Repose  in  Egypt.     Albrecht  Diirer 272 

The  Shadow  of  Death.     W.  Holman  Hunt 276 

The  Boy  Christ.     Bernardino  Luini 281 

"                  Cesare  da  Sesto 282 

"                  Guido  Reni 283 

Christ  among  the  Doctors,  from  a  5th  century  mosaic          .        .  284 
"                  "                from   MS.  of   St.   Gregory  of  Nazi- 

anzus 285 

Baptism  of  Christ,  from  5th  century  sarcophagus         .        .        .  305 

"                from  Catacombs 306 

"                 (6th  century),  in  the  Cathedral  at  Ravenna  .  306 

"                 (7th  century),  catacomb  of  St.  Pontianus       .  307 

"                Verrocchio 308 

"                Piero  dei  Franceschi       ....        1  309 

Temptation  of  Christ,  from  9th  century  MS 311 

Miracle  at  Cana,  from  sarcophagus  at  the  Lateran       .        .        .  313 
Miraculous   Draught  of  Fishes,  from   6th   century  mosaic   at 

Ravenna 316 

Casting  out  the  Evil  Spirit,  from  a  5th  century  ivory  .        .        .  317 

Casting  out  of  Evil  Spirits,  from  the  Church  of  St.  Apollinaris  .  318 

Healing  the  Paralytic,                                                                        .  318 

Raising  of  Jairus's  Daughter,  from  a  sculpture     ....  319 

Healing  the  Blind,  from  4th  century  sarcophagus  in  the  Lateran  320 
The  Impotent  Man  carrying  his  Bed  (two  examples),  from  the 

Catacombs 320 

The  Healing  of  the  Impotent  Man,  from  sarcophagus  in  the 

Lateran 321 

Feeding  the  Multitude,  from  sarcophagus  in  the  Lateran     .        .  322 

The  Transfiguration,  from  the  Church  of  St.  Apollinaris     .         .  324 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xvii 

PAGE 

The  Transfiguration,  Mosaic  from  Church  of   St.  Catherine's 

monastery  on  Mount  Sinai    .         .         .  324 

"                   Fra  Angelico 325 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus,  from  relief  in  Chichester  Cathedral        .  328 
The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  from  the  Church  of  St.  Apol- 

linaris 330 

Christ  blessing  Children,  from  sarcophagus  in  Villa  Borghese     .  333 

Christ  and  the  Samaritan  Woman,  from  the  Catacombs       .         .  -333 

The  Rich  Young  Ruler,  from  9th  century  MS 334 

The  Woman  taken  in  Adultery,  from  mosaic  in  St.  Apollinaris  .  335 

The  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  from  the  tomb  of  Junius  Bassus         .  351 

The  Last  Supper  (6th  century  example)        .....  352 

Washing  the  Disciples'  Feet,  from  the  Aries  sarcophagus    .         .  353 

The  Denial  of  Peter,  from  sarcophagus  in  the  Lateran         .         .  353 

Carrying  the  Cross,             ••                              "                         .  354 

The  Crucifixion,  from  Syriac  Bible  of  6th  century        .         .         .  355 

The  Resurrection,  from  4th  century  sarcophagus          .         .         .  356 

"                 from  8th  century  ivory  at  Munich  .         .         .  356 

The  Disciples  at  Emmaus,  9th  century  miniature  at  Munich        .  357 

The  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas,  from  Library  at  Munich     .         .  357 

The  Ascension,  from  Syriac  Bible  at  Florence      ....  358 

The  Man  of  Sorrows.     Albrecht  Diirer"        .....  361 

The  Last  Supper.                          «                  363 

The  Agony  in  the  Garden.                              364 

The  Arrest.                                     "                   365 

Pilate  shewing  Christ  to  the  People.     Albrecht  Diirer .        .        .  367 

The  Crucifixion.     Albrecht  Diirer 369 

The  Agony.     Correggio 375 

Pilate  washing  his  Hands,  from  ancient  sarcophagus  .        .        .  377 

The  Flagellation.     Bernardino  Luini 380 

Christ  at  the  Column.     Velasquez 381 

Ecce  Homo.     Guido  Reni 384 

Descent  from  the  Cross.     Relief  by  Benedetto  Antelami     .        .  421 

The  Pieta.     Michael  Angelo 425 

Francia      .........  427 

The  Dead  Christ.     Bissolo                                                                   ,  430 


xviii  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IN  ART. 

PAGE 

Descent  into  Hell.     Albrecht  Diirer 435 

The  Resurrection.     Albrecht  Diirer 443 

The  Last  Judgment.     Michael  Angelo 465 

Dies  Domini.     Sir  E.  Burne  Jones 478 

Types  of  Christ  — 

The  Ascetic  (Byzantine  example) 485 

The  Avenging.    Michael  Angelo 486 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PRINTED  SEPARATELY  FROM  THE  TEXT. 


Le  Beau  Dieu  d' Amiens Frontispiece 

TO  FACE  PAGE 

Margaritone's  Picture '  110 

Madonna  of  the  Pomegranate.  Giovanni  Bellini  .  .  .  154 

"  of  the  Star.  Fra  Angelico 158 

della  Cesta.  Correggio 172 

Coronation  of  the  Virgin.  Fra  Filippo  Lippi  ....  192 

Ansidei  Madonna.  Raphael .  198 

Madonna  della  Misericordia.  Fra  Bartolommeo  .  .  .  206 

"  of  the  Rosary.  Domenichino  .  208 

Ex  Voto  Madonna  (Meyer  family).  Holbein  ....  210 

The  Annunciation.  Carlo  Crivelli 226 

Rossetti 230 

The  Xativity.  Sandro  Botticelli 237 

The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds.  Correggio  ....  248 

The  Adoration  of  the  Magi.  Sir  E.  Burne  Jones  .  .  .  256 

Triumph  of  the  Innocents.  TV.  Holman  Hunt  ....  268 

Carpenter's  Shop.  Sir  J.  E.  Millais 274 

Christ  among  the  Doctors.  TV.  Holman  Hunt  ....  290 

The  Last  Supper.  Leonardo  da  Vinci  .....  346 

The  Crucifixion.  Martin  Schongauer 414 

"  Velasquez 418 

The  Risen  Christ.  Francesco  Mantegna  .....  442 

The  Last  Judgment.  Orcagna  .  460 


BOOK  I. 

EESEEVE   OF  THE   EAELY  CHEISTIANS 
PAINTING   CHEIST. 


"  Die  Menschen  sind  in  Poesie  und  Kunst  nur  so  lange  produktiv  als  sie 
religios  sind."  —  GOETHE. 


I. 

RESERVE   IN  PAINTING   CHRIST.     A.D.  1-400. 
Rev.  i.  17 :  "  And  when  I  saw  Him,  I  fell  at  His  feet  as  one  dead." 

THE  representation  of  Christ,  directly  or  indirectly,  is 
the  main  object  of  Christian  Art  in  every  stage,  because 
Christian  thought  has  turned  in  all  epochs,  and  without 
interruption,  to 

"  Him  first,  Him  last,  Him  midst,  and  without  end." 

Christian  Art,  as  long  as  it  was  sincere  and  devout,  might 
have  adopted  the  words  of  the  modern  poet :  — 

"  Yea,  through  life,  death,  through  sorrow  and  through  sinning, 

Christ  shall  suffice  me,  for  He  hath  sufficed  ; 

Christ  is  the  end,  for  Christ  was  the  beginning ; 

Christ  the  beginning,  for  the  end  is  Christ." 

But  even  when  devoutness  had  vanished  and  religious 
sincerity  was  well-nigh  dead  —  even  when  Art  not  only 
refused  to  be  the  bondslave  of  ecclesiastics,  but  thought 
it  beneath  her  to  be  the  handmaid  of  religion  —  she  still 
used  sacred  themes  to  display  her  own  skill  and  erudition. 
The  charm  of  the  Gospel  story  was  felt  to  be  infinite 
and  inexhaustible,  and  painters  borrowed  their  "motives" 
from  scenes  in  the  Life  of  Christ,  while  they  tried  to 
supply  the  lack  of  inspiration  by  science  and  technique. 
But  the  feelings  with  which  the  subject  was  approached, 
and  the  methods  adopted  to  set  it  forth,  have  gone  through 
vast  and  singular  variations. 

The  first  point  which  I  desire  to  emphasize  is  that  the 
primitive  Christians  shrank  altogether  from  any  direct 

3 


4  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

presentment  of  the  human  Christ.  Little  by  little,  step 
by  step,  this  reluctance  was  overcome ;  but  we  may  note 
seven  well-marked  stages  of  feeling,  involving  a  devel- 
opment continued  through  many  centuries,  before  any 
Christian  artist  presumed  to  represent  the  Son  of  God, 
the  Saviour  of  the  World,  in  a  purely  realistic  aspect,  as 
He  lived  and  moved  through  the  stages  of  His  earthly 
life.  Among  the  latest  specimens  of  such  realism,  pushed 
to  the  extreme  of  irreverence,  may  be  mentioned  the  illus- 
trations to  the  popular  edition  of  Kenan's  Vie  de  Jesus  by 
Godefroy  Durand.1  They  are,  to  a  high  degree,  clever 
and  striking,  but  they  seem  expressly  designed  to  impress 
vividly  on  the  minds  of  all  who  see  them  that  the  Lord  of 
Glory  was  a  mortal  man  and  nothing  more. 

i.  In  the  earliest  stages  of  Christianity,  Christ  was  only 
shadowed  forth  symbolically,  or  IdeograpJiically. 

ii.  He  was  next  represented  indirectly,  and  even  by 
Pagan  analogies. 

iii.  He  was  then  set  forth  Historico-symbolically  by  Old 
Testament  types. 

iv.  Then  Allusively,  by  reference  to  New  Testament 
parables. 

v.  Then  Ideally,  by  figures  which  stood  immediately 
for  Christ,  but  in  a  manner  purely  conventional,  and  with 
no  attempt  to  indicate  His  absolute  semblance. 

vi.  It  was  only  after  several  centuries  that  artists 
began  to  paint  Him  directly,  though  with  extreme  reserve 
and  reverence. 

vii.  By  the  eighth  century, — but  not  heartily  or  unan- 
imously till  then,  —  the  Church  had  learned  to  accept  the 
view  argued  by  St.  John  of  Damascus :  "  Since  He  who, 
being  in  the  form  of  God,  is,  by  the  excellence  of  His 
nature  exempt  from  quantity,  quality,  and  magnitude,  yet 
took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  put  on  the 
fashion  of  a  body,  contracting  Himself  to  quantity  and 
quality ;  therefore  represent  Him  in  pictures,  and  set  Him 

1  Paris,  1870. 


RESERVE  IX   PAIXTIXG  CHRIST.  5 

forth  to  be  gazed  on  openly,  who  willed  to  be  gazed  upon. 
Paint  His  humiliation,  His  nativity,  His  baptism,  His  trans- 
figuration, His  agonies  which  ransomed  us,  the  miracles 
which,  though  wrought  by  His  fleshly  ministry,  proved 
His  divine  power  and  nature,  His  sepulture,  His  resur- 
rection, His  ascension,  —  paint  all  these  things  in  colours 
as  well  as  in  speech,  in  pictures  as  well  as  in  books."  1 

It  is  not,  however,  until  the  days  of  the  later  Renaissance 
that  we  find  anything  approaching  to  an  entirely  realistic 
picture  of  Jesus ;  and  not  till  the  nineteenth  century 
that  we  find  pictures,  which,  like  those  of  Veretschlagen, 
—  whatever  their  intention,  —  can  only  be  regarded  as 
degrading  and  profane. 

I  do  not  assert  that  these  seven  stages  are  separated  by 
marked  chronological  epochs.  Some  of  them  overlapped 
each  other,  and  were  to  a  certain  extent  synchronistic ; 
but  I  shall  adduce  proof  that  they  represent  changing 
phases  of  opinion,  which  ended  in  a  revolution  of  feeling 
so  absolute  as  the  late,  yet  universal,  practice  of  all  but 
exclusively  identifying  the  image  of  Christ,  not  with  our 
idea  of  the  Lord  of  Glory,'  but  with  that  "  hour  and  power 
of  darkness,"  when,  in  utter  humiliation,  He  hung  between 
the  two  robbers  on  His  cross  of  shame. 

Early  Christianity  looked  on  Art  with  no  friendly  eye. 
The  exercise  of  Pagan  Art  was  of  course  forbidden  to  all 
who  had  been  "illuminated,"  i.e.  baptized ;  but  the  remarks 
of  Tertullian  in  his  tract  against  the  painter  Hermogenes, 
shew  that  Art  itself  was  not  in  high  regard.  Yet  it  could 
not  be  suppressed.  It  is  imperiously  demanded  by  the 
sense  of  beauty  which  God  has  implanted  within  us,  and 
men  refuse,  and  rightly  refuse,  to  be  debarred  from  this 
innocent  method  of  satisfying  their  intellectual  and  spiritual 
needs.  But  it  may  be  fearlessly  asserted  that  for  more 
than  four  centuries  after  the  Ascension,  orthodox  and 
well-instructed  Christians  of  every  condition,  rich  and 

1  John  Damascen.,  Orat.  III.,  De  imaginibus,  Opp.  I.  349;  Didron, 
Icon.  239. 


6  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

poor,  learned  and  unlearned,  regarded  it  as  an  act  of 
irreverence,  if  not  of  actual  profanity,  to  paint  Christ  in 
His  purely  human  aspect.  This  is  clearly  proved  to  us 
by  the  records  of  Christian  thought  which  are  now  fast 
disappearing  from  the  walls  of  the  Catacombs. 

Pe'rate'  distinguishes  the  Art  of  the  Catacombs  under 
four  epochs. 

1.  The  first,  which  covers  the  two  first  centuries,  shews 
the   freest   invention   and  most  elaborate    technique.     Its 
masterpieces  are  found  in  the  cemeteries  of  Priscilla  and 
Domitilla,  and  the  crypts  of  Lucina  and  Prsetextatus. 

2.  The  second  epoch  ends  with  the   Edict   of   Milan 
(A.D.  313),  which  gave  toleration  to  Christianity.     It  is 
more  ecclesiastical  in  character,  but  the  profounder  sym- 
bolism is  expressed  with  far  inferior  skill.     Its  chief  speci- 
mens are  to  be  found  in  the  Chamber  of  the  Sacraments, 
in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus. 

3.  The  third  epoch  embraces  the  victorious  period  of  the 
Church,  from  Constantine  (A.D.  324)  to  the  sack  of  Rome 
by  Alaric  (A.D.  410).      It  shews  superior  technical  skill 
expended  upon  the  basilicas  and  sarcophagi,  but  does  not 
equal  the  first  epoch  in  fineness  of  design  and  colouring. 

4.  The  art  of  the  fourth  epoch,  from  the  fifth  to  the 
tenth  century,  is  of  the  crudest  description,  and  reveals  a 
complete  degeneration. 

(z.)   CHRIST  WAS  FIKST  REPRESENTED  IDEOGRAPHICALLY 
OR  BY  SYMBOLS. 

"Things  more  excellent  than  any  image  are  expressed  through 
images."  — JAMBLICHUS. 

"Emblems,  symbols,  types,"  it  has  been  said,  "have 
this  in  common :  they  are  the  representative  of  something 
else  for  which  they  stand.  Emblems  and  symbols  often 
differ  only  in  their  mode  of  application ;  thus,  the  palm- 
branch  is  an  emblem  of  victory,  but  taken  in  a  Christian 
sense  it  is  a  symbol  significant  of  the  victory  of  our  faith. 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING   CHRIST.  7 

The  anchor  may  be  a  mere  emblem  of  Hope,  but  when 
it  is  put  for  the  hope  of  a  Christian  it  becomes  a  symbol. 
A  symbol  is  of  the  highest  order  when  it  expresses  a 
religious  dogma;  ...  of  the  lowest,  when  it  is  put  for 
a  received  fact,  real  or  legendary.  Thus,  the  keys  as  a 
symbol  of  St.  Peter,  or  the  knife  of  St.  Bartholomew,  are 
of  the  lowest  order."  l 

The  earliest  passage  relating  to  Christian  symbolism  2  is 
found  in  St.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  who  died  about  A.D.  211. 
Speaking,  in  his  Pcedagogus?  of  Christian  signet-rings,  he 
says,  that  Christians  should  wear  only  one  ring,  and  that 
on  the  lowest  joint  of  the  little  finger,  and  adds  :  — 

"  Let  the  engraving  upon  the  gem  of  your  ring  be  either 
a  dove,  or  a  fish,  or  a  ship  running  before  the  wind,  or  a 
musical  lyre,  the  device  used  by  Polycrates,  or  a  ship's 
anchor,  which  Seleucus  had  carved  upon  his  signet.  And 
if  the  device  represent  a  man  fishing,  it  will  remind  us  of 
an  apostle,  and  of  boys  saved  from  water."4  I  append 

1  Barlow,  Essays  on  Symbolism,  6. 

2  I  exclude  Rev.  vii.  3,  on  which  see  King,   The  Gnostics,  p.   135. 
Miinter  (Die   Sinnbilder  der  Christen)  thinks  that  the  "signet  of   the 
living  God"  impressed  on  the  forehead  of  the  144,000  was  the  monogram 
of  Christ.     In  Byzantine  art  it  is  represented  by  X  (Didron  Manuel, 
p.  244).     But  the  monogram  of  Christ  did  not  come  into  use  before  the 
fourth  century.     The  seal  was  (as  St.  John  says)  "His  Father's  name." 
An  ancient  tradition  explains  it  by  Ezek.  ix.  4.     In  the  painted  glass  of 
St.  Denis  the  Angel  is  shewn  stamping  a  mark  on  the  forehead  of  the 
elect ;  the  legend  explains  the  subject  as  the  sign  of  the  letter  T  (the 
Hebrew  than,  fi),  which  was  originally  a  cross  (+).     Vulg.  "  Sigua  than 
super  f routes." 

3  Paid.  III.  11,  §  59. 

4  On  the  absence  of  the  cross  from  this  list  I  will  speak  infra,  §  2.     The 

pelican  (on  which  see  Alt,  Die  Heiligenbilder,  56) 
and  the  monogram  of  Christ 
were  of  later  date.  There  are 
no  certain  instances  of  the 
monogram  before  the  age  of 
Constantine.  The  peacock 
and  phoenix  were  also  later. 
The  peacock  was  probably 
chosen  as  a  type  of  immortality,  from  the  old  notion  that  its  flesh  was 


8 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


some  early  specimens  of  these  symbols  from  the    Cata- 
combs. 

There  was  a  direct  intention  in  this  advice  of  the  learned 
Alexandrian  Father.     The  minds  of  all  men,  especially 


of  the  uneducated,  yearn  for  those  sensible  images  which 
serve  in  some  measure  to  shadow  forth  the  Divine.1  It 
may  be  that  in  the  second  century,  Christians,  who  chiefly 


belonged  to  the  poorer  classes,  had  but  few  among  them 
who  were-  trained  in  the  difficult  work  of  carving  gems 
with  artistic  skill.  Two  things  a  Christian  had  to  avoid. 
It  was  not  his  object  to  give  needless  offence,  or  to  incur 
needless  peril,  by  flaunting  in  the  face  of  the  heathen 
those  symbols  of  his  religion,  which  were  most  certain  to 
be  derided  and  misunderstood ;  and  if  he  bought  a  signet- 
incorruptible.  Perhaps  for  the  same  reason,  angels  are  often  represented 
with  wings  of  peacocks'  feathers.  See,  too,  Rev.  iv.  8. 

1  See  Rom.  i.  20:  "The  invisible  things  of  Him  are  clearly  seen, 
being  perceived  through  the  things  that  are  made."  Orig.  Horn.  III.  in 
Cant.,  Qu.  I.,  art.  i.,  §  9 ;  Ferret,  VI.  94. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTING   CHRIST.  9 

ring,  it  was  essential  that  it  should  neither  be  degraded  by 
heathen  pollutions,  such  as  Clement  proceeds  to  mention, 
nor  carved  with  the  figures  of  heathen  idols.1  No  one 
could  object  to  emblems  which  had  been  worn  by  a 
Polycrates  or  a  Seleucus,  and  yet  in  looking  at  them  the 
convert  would  be  reminded  of  the  most  sacred  truths  of 
his  religion.2  Christians  rejoiced  to  reflect  Scriptural 
metaphors  in  pictorial  symbols,3  especially  if  such  symbols 
would  awaken  no  needless  suspicion  among  their  heathen 
contemporaries. 

The  naturalness  of  symbolism  is  illustrated  by  language, 
all  of  which  is  ultimately  interjectional,  imitative,  or 
metaphorical.  The  metaphors  become  obscured  in  the 
course  of  time  into  "  a  mass  of  arbitrary,  opaque,  unin- 
teresting conventionalisms,  but  all  early  language  thrills 
with  poetry  and  flashes  with  the  unconscious  play  of  the 
fancy  of  the  imagination."  4  "  Every  language,"  says  Jean 
Paul  Richter,  "is  a  dictionary  of  faded  metaphors."  Aris- 
totle wrote  long  ago  that  "  the  utterances  of  the  voice  are 
symbols  of  the  passion  in  the  soul."5  "As  we  go  back  in 
history,"  says  Emerson,  "language  becomes  more  pictur- 
esque, until  its  infancy,  when  it  is  all  poetry,  and  all 
spiritual  facts  are  represented  by  natural  symbols  " ;  and 

1  Lactant.  Instt.  I.  21 :  "  Apud  eos  ipsos  etiatn  vitia  religiosa  sunt." 
See  Wisdom  xv.  5,  6  :  "For  neither  did  the  mischievous  image  of  men 
deceive  us,  nor  an  image  spotted  with  divers  colours,  the  painter's  fruit- 
less labours  ;  the  sight  whereof  escheats  fools  to  lust  after  it.  ...     Both 
they  that  make  them,  they  that  desire  them,  and  they  that  worship  them, 
are  lovers  of  evil  things." 

2  See,  on  this  branch  of  the  subject,  Garrucci,  Storia  delV  Arte  Cris- 
tiann.  Vol.  I.,  Bk.  iii. ;  Del  Simbolo,pp.  155-258;  Alt,  Die  Heiligenbil- 
der,  48-87.     Symbols  long  continued  after  regular  paintings  had  become 
common.     Many  are,  for  instance,  found  in  the  archspandrils  of  S.  Apol- 
linare  in  Classe  at  Ravenna. 

3  "Quicquid  in  representatione  rerum  gestarum  neque  ad  historias, 
neque  ad  naturae  veritatem  proprie  referri  potest,  figuratam  esse  cognos- 
cas." —  Augustine. 

4  See  my  Chapters  on  Language,  pp.  176-208  ;    Origin  of  Language, 
pp.  116-166  ;  Victor  Cousin,  Cours  de  Philosophic,  III.,  le^on  xx. 

5  Arist.  De  Interpr.,  I.  i. 


10  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

so,   too,    Carlyle :    "  Language    is    the    Flesh-garment    of 
Thought,  and  Imagination  weaves  this  Fleshly  garment." 

The  explanation  of  all  symbolism  lies  ultimately  in  the 
fact,  so  finely  stated  by  the  Son  of  Sirach,  "All  things 
are  double  one  against  another,  and  God  hath  made 
nothing  imperfect."  "  So  look  upon  all  the  works  of  the 
Most  High,  and  there  are  two  and  two,  one  against  an- 
other." 1  It  is  needless  to  dwell  long  on  this  principle,  for 
it  has  been  expressed  by  two  of  the  greatest  poets.  Dante 

sings :  — 

"  Le  cosi  tutte  quante 
Harm'  ordine  tra  loro ;  e  questo  e  forma 
Che  1'  universe  a  Dio  fa  simigliante." 

And  again :  — 

"  Cosi  parlar  conviensi  al  vostro  ingegno, 
Perocche  solo  da  sensato  apprende 
Cio  che  fa  poscia  d'  intelletto  degno."  2 

And  Milton  writes  the  words  which  might  stand  as  the 
motto  of  Butler's  Analogy:  — 

"  What  if  earth 

Be  but  the  shadow  of  heaven,  and  things  thereon 
Each  to  the  other  like,  more  than  on  earth  is  thought?" 

The  common  symbol  of  the  Dove  recalled  the  dove  of 
Noah,  and  was  an  emblem  of  Innocence,  and  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  sometimes  of  the  Twelve  Apostles,  with  refer- 
ence to  Matt.  x.  16,  "  Be  ye  harmless  as  doves."  It  also 
stood  for  Peace,  and  for  the  faithful.3  It  was  not  an 
emblem  of  Christ. 

The  Anchor  was  a  natural  emblem  of  hope,  and  seems 

1  Ecclus.  xlii.  24  ;  xxxiii.  15. 

2  "  All  things  whatsoever  have  an  order  among  themselves,  and  this  is 
form,  which  makes  the  universe  resemble  God." — Farad.  I.   103-105. 
"Thus  doth  it  befit  to  speak  to  your  understanding,  because  by  sense 
only  doth  it  apprehend  what  it  afterwards  makes  meet  for  the  under- 
standing." —  Parad.  IV.  40-43.    Dante  is  here  thinking  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  Summa,  I.  84,  i.  6,  etc. 

8  Ps.  Iv.  6  ;  Cant.  ii.  16,  etc. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTING   CHRIST. 


11 


ship  and  Pharos. 


to  have  been  used  on  the  tombs  of   those  whose   names 
included   the  word  Elpis,  "hope,"  as  Elpidius  and  Elpi- 
zusa.1     Perhaps,  too,  in  later  times  the  ring  and  transverse 
bar  of  the  Anchor  recalled  the 
cru.r  ansata,  or  "handled  cross."2 

The  Ship  stood  for  the  Church, 
and  for  the  voyage  of  the  life 
safely  ended  in  the  harbour  of 
peaceful  death. 

The  Lyre  recalled  the  attractive  power  of  Christ  (John 
xii.  32),  and  also  represented  the  human  body:3 —  , 

"  Strange  that  a  harp  of  a  thousand  strings 
Should  keep  in  tune  so  long." 

None  of  these,  except  the  first,  was,  or  subsequently  became, 
a  distinctive  symbol  of  Christ  Himself. 

Of  the  somewhat  later  symbol  of  Christ  as  "the  Lamb 
of  God,"  we  shall  speak  hereafter ;  but  of  all  early  Chris- 


tian symbols  the  Fish  was  the  most  frequent  and  the 
favourite.4  It  assumed  many  forms,  of  which  specimens 
are  here  furnished  from  ancient  Christian  tombs,  and  its 

1  Heb.  vi.  18,  19. 

2  The  Anchor  was  also  an  emblem  of   the  security  of  faith  ;   hence 
Epiphanius  gave  the  title  "Anchored"  (d-yKi/pwrds)  to  his  book  on  the 
faith. 

3  Euseb.  De  Laud.  Constant.  Imp. 

4  See  De  Rossi,  Spic.ileyium  Solesmense,  II.  ;  De  Christ.  Jloniim.  Pis- 
cern  Exhibentibus. 


12 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


symbolism   was    manifold,    being    applied    sometimes    to 
Christ,  and  sometimes  to  the  Christian  as  saved  by  Christ. 

It  continued  to  be  a  common 
symbol  down  to  the  days  of 
Constantine,  and  was  revived 
in  the  Middle  Ages  and  in 
modern  times.1 

As  an  emblem  of  Christian- 


IX0YC  ZOUNTGUN 


UCINIAEAMIATIBE 


ity  it  involved  an  immediate  reference  to  baptism.  Christ, 
in  calling  His  Apostles  after  the  miraculous  draught  of 
fishes,  had  said,  "  Follow  me,  and  I  will  make  you  fishers 
of  men."  He  had  also  spoken  of  the  Church  under  the 


SYNTRoPHIojv 


figure  of  the  Draw-net  full  of  fish  good  and  bad.2     In  the 
earliest  Christian  hymn  known  to  us,  that  given  by  Clement 

1  For  authorities,  see  Martigny,  s.vv.  Poisson,  Eucharistie,  Acrostiche, 
Pecheur;  Kraus,  s.w.  Fischer,  Fischfang.    The  subject  is  exhaustively 
treated  by  Costadoni  (Sopra   il  Pesce,  Calogiera,  XLI.  247)  ;    by  De 
Rossi  and  Pitra,  in  the  Spicilegium  Solesmense ;  and  by  Polidori,  Sul 
pesce  come  simb.  di  Crist,  e  del  Christiani.    For  pictures  from  the  Cata- 
combs of  Christ  as  the  Fisher,  see  De  Rossi,  II.,  taw.  xiv.,  xv.     The 
design  is  still  used  on  papal  signets. 

2  Matt.  xiii.  48 ;  comp.  Jer.  xvi.  16 ;  Martigny,  Pecheur,  and  Diet,  oj 
Christian  Antiquities,  I.  674. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTING   CHRIST. 


13 


born    in    water, 
we    safety    in    any 


of  Alexandria  at  the  end  of  his  Pcedagogus,  Christ  is  ad- 
dressed as  — 

"  Fisher  of  men,  the  Blest, 
Out  of  the  world's  unrest, 
Out  of  siu's  troubled  sea, 
Taking  us,  Lord,  to  Thee. 

With  choicest  fish  good  store 
Drawing  the  net  to  shore." 

St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  says  that  Christ  catches  us  with 
a  hook,  not  to  slay  us,  but  after  slaying  to  make  us  live.1- 

When  Christ  was  regarded  as  the  Divine  Fisherman, 
Christians  themselves  were  spoken  of  as  pisciculi,  "little 
fishes."  "  We  little  fishes,"  says  Tertullian,  "according  to 
our  Fish,  Jesus  Christ,  are 
nor  have 
other 

way  than  by  remaining  in 
water."2  It  will  be  re- 
membered that,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  soul  of  man  is 
represented  by  St.  James3 
as  drawn  aside  and  en- 
ticed,—  rather  "lured  and 
dragged  out,"  —  to  gasp 
and  die  upon  the  shore 
when  he  has  greedily  swal- 
lowed the  bait  of  the  Evil 
One.  When  Bonosus,  the 
friend  of  St.  Jerome,  re- 
tired to  an  island  hermit- 
age, Jerome  wrote  of  him,  "  Bonosus,  as  the  son  of  the 
Fish,  .  .  .  seeks  watery  places."4 

1  See  the  appended  woodcuts. 

2  De  Bapt.  I.:    "  Piscis  natus  aquis  auctor  baptisraatis  ipse  est."  — 
Orientius. 

3  James  i.  14 :   SeXeaftf/xcvos  Kai  e£eX/cJ;uej'OS. 
*  Jer.  Ep.  XLIII. 


14 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


Athanasius  the  Sinaite  says  "the  baptized  are  reptiles 
(epirera)  fished  for  the  nurture  of  God  by  those  who  were 
once  fishermen  and  are  now  Apostles."  1 


From  a  sarcophagus. 


St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  speaks  of  the  martyrs  as  being 
baptized  in  their  blood,  and  of  other  Christians  as  fish  for 
whom  the  water  of  baptism  suffices.2 


From  a  gilt  glass. 


Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus. 


The  bronze  and  glass  fishes  which  have  been  found  in 
the  Catacombs,  of  which  one  bears  on  its  side  the  word 
o-o>crat<?  (mayst  thou  save !),  are  believed  by  Martigny  to 
have  been  baptismal  tesserae,  and  to  have  been  sometimes 
worn  round  the  neck  as  amulets.  On  the  fine  old  gate 
of  San  Zeno  at  Verona,  with  its  very  interesting  carv- 

1  Hexameron.  2  De  Resurrect.  LIT. 


RESERVE   IX  PAIXTIXG   CHRIST.  15 

ings,  is  a  bas-relief  of  two  women,  each  representing  the 
Church  (?),  one  of  whom  is  giving  suck  to  two  infants, 
and  the  other  to  two  fishes. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  Fish  is  sometimes  a  dolphin, 
sometimes  a  carp.  As  a  dolphin  it  is  —  or  it  was  among 
the  Pagans  —  an  emblem 
of  protection,  with  refer- 
ence to  the  legend  of 
Arion.  The  Dolphin  was 

ln  i>     11    «•   i     ti  Bronze  baptismal  tessera. 

regarded  as  ot  all  tish  the 

friendliest  to  man.1  When  the  fish  is  a  carp,  it  indicates 
Christ  giving  Himself  for  the  food  of  the  soul.  When,  as 
on  old  baptismal  fonts  in  Iceland  and  Fiinen,  three  fish 
are  arranged  in  a  circle  or  triangle,  they  further  indicate 
the  Trinity  and  Eternity  of  God.2 

But  the  Fish  is  also  used  to  symbolize  Christ  Himself, 
especially  during  the  first  four  centuries.  Later,  this 
symbol  becomes  less  frequent,  and  for  a  time  almost  dis- 
appears.3 

For  this  symbolic  use  of  the  Fish  there  were  various 
reasons. 

i.  It  may  perhaps  have  been  for  a  long  time  a  part  of 
the  disciplina  arcani  —  i.e.  one  of  the  secrets  of  Christian- 
ity—  that  the  Fish,  in  its  Greek  name  MX0YC  acrostically 
represented  the  words  'l^o-oO?  Xpivros  Qeov  'Y^o?  S&>r>;p, 
"Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  the  Saviour."4  The  first 

1  (t>i\av0pwir(>Ta.Tos.     Athen.  Deipnos.  XIII.  30 ;  Pitra,  Spicil.  Solesm. 
III.  15.     Paulinus  of  Nola  alludes  to  this  in  his  letter  to  his  spiritual 
father,  Delphinus.     See,  further,  Martigny,  s.v.  Dauphin. 

2  Miinter,  Sinnbilder,  pp.  48-52. 

3  It  is  a  remarkable  proof  of  this  that  in  the  mnemonic  lines  of  St. 
Damasus  (Carrn.  VI.)  about  the  symbols  and  names  of  Christ,  the  Fish 
does  not  occur,  though  he  mentions  — 

Virga,  Columna,  Manus,  Petra,  .  .  . 
Vinea,  Pastor,  (')vis.  Pax.  Radix.  Vitis,  Oliva, 
Fons.  Paries.  Agnus,  Vitulus,  Leo,  .  .  . 
Rete,  Lapis.  Domus.  oinnia  Christus  Jesus. 

4  The  acrostic  is  found  in  the  Sibylline  verses,  VIII.  217-250.     See 
Spicil.  Solesm.  II.  173. 


16  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

writer  who  points  out  this  fact  is  Optatus  of  Milevis, 
about  A.D.  384.1  "  The  Greek  word  Fish,"  he  says,  "  in 
one  word  by  each  letter  embraces  a  crowd  of  sacred 
names."  Melito  of  Sardis  (A.D.  160)  in  his  Key  to  Meta- 
phors says,  "Fish:  Christ."  Origen  long  before  had  written, 
"Christ  is  metaphorically  called  the  "Fish."2  St.  Augus- 
tine alludes  to  the  same  fact,  and  says  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  called  Fish  "  because  He  was  able  to  live  in  the  abyss  of 
this  mortality  as  in  the  depths  of  water,  that  is  without 


sin. 


"3 


ii.  The  Fish  indicated  Christ  in  His  manhood ;  for  men 
are  compared  to  fishes  merged  in  the  Sea  of  Life,4  and 
caught  by  the  hook  of  death.5  It  alluded  to  Him  as  Sav- 
iour, with  reference  to  the  fish  of  Tobias  which  drove 
away  the  demons ;  to  the  fish  which  provided  the  stater 
for  St.  Peter;6  to  the  two  small  fishes  with  which  Christ 
fed  the  multitude ;  and  to  the  broiled  fish  prepared  for  His 
disciples  after  His  resurrection  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee. 
The  latter  was  supposed  to  indicate  His  passion.  "Piscis 
assus"  says  the  Venerable  Bede,  " est  Christus  passus"7 
The  Fish  had  further  an  Eucharistic  significance,  as  will  be 
seen  in  the  accompanying  woodcuts.  Dean  Stanley  thinks 
that  a  fish  was  eaten  with  the  bread  and  wine  in  the  early 
Eucharistic  feasts,  in  remembrance  of  which  there  was  a 
fish  known  in  the  Middle  Ages  as  "the  Paschal  pickerel ," 
from  the  tradition  that  Christ  had  substituted  a  fish  for 

1  Adv.   Parmen.    Contra  Donatistas,   III.  2;   see  Stanley,    Christian 
Institutions,  p.  51 ;  "Wharton  Marriott,  Essay  on  the  Fish  of  Autun. 

2  Xp«rrds  6  rpoTrt/cwj  \c~ybfuevos  t'x^us.     In  3Iatt.  ill.,  p.  586. 

3  See  De  Civit.  Dei,  XVIII.  25. 

4  St.  Ambr.  in  Luc.  v.  ;  Orig.  in  Matt.  xiii.  10. 
6  Greg.  Magn.  Moral.  Horn.  XXV.  in  ew.  ii. 

6  Auct.  Anon.  De  promiss.  et  benedict.     His  works,  which  belong  to 
the  fifth  century,  are  printed  after  those  of  Prosper  of  Aquitaine. 

7  Following  Aug.  in  Joann.,  Tr.  CXXIIL,  comp.  Greg.  I.e. :   "quasi 
tribulatione  assatus."     See  Theophanes  Kerameus,  Horn.  36 :  6  5£  tiriKei- 
fj.evos  ixBvs  eiKfiiv  J)v.  .  .  .     "I^uds  rpbirov  iv  rrj  rod  /3tou  0a.\d<TO"r)  tiro\ir (.{icra.ro 
TTJS  a\ui'pas  duaprlas  Sia/jifivas  dju^roxos.    Garrucci,  I.  156.     See,  too,  Seve- 
rianus  of  Gabala,  quoted  in  Bottari,  Rom.  Soft.  III.  30. 


RESERVE  IN   PAINTING   CHRIST. 


17 


the  Paschal  Lamb  at  the   Last   Supper.     To   this   there 
are    many   ancient  allusions.      "  He,"    says    Paulinus    of 
Nola,    "is   the   true    bread,    and   the    fish   of   the    living 
water."      In    the    famous 
Greek  inscription  from  the 
cemetery     of    Autun     we 
read,  "  Divine  offspring  of 
the    heavenly    Fish    take 
the  sweet  food  of  the  Sav- 
iour   of    Saints;    eat,  drink,       Eucharistic  carp,  with  basket  of  bread  ( mam- 
i      -I  1  •          •       1,11  i       ,1  philla).     Crypt  of  St.  Lucina. 

holding  in  both  hands  the 

fish."  St.  Augustine  speaks  of  the  Eucharist  as  "the 
solemn  feast  in  which  is  shewn  that  Fish  whom  the 
faithful  on  earth  eat  when  taken  out  of  the  deep."  1  St. 

Jerome,  in  words 
which  illustrate 
the  accompanying 
woodcut,  speaks 
of  him  "who  car- 
ries the  body  of 
Christ  in  an  osier 
basket  and  His 

blood   in  a  vase  of  glass."2      And,   not  to   multiply  in- 
stances,  we   find   a    marked    allusion    to 
Christ  as  the  Mystic  Fish,  in  the  earliest 
known  Christian  inscription  of  any  length, 

—  that   discovered    in    1882   by  Professor 
Ramsay  on  the  tomb  of  Abercius,  Bishop 

Of     Hieropolis,  who     died     about    A.D.    160.      From  a  gem  in    the 

In  this  inscription    the    old  Bishop   says,      British     Museum- 

*  *  The  victorious  soul 

—  for  he  dictated  in  his  own  lifetime  the      resting  on  Christ, 
epitaph   for  his  tomb,  —  "  Faith    led  me      the  Di™e  Fish- 
everywhere,  and  everywhere  served  up   to    me   for  food 

1  Aug.  Confess.  XIII.  23. 

2  The  anonymous  author  who  is  confused  with  St.  Prosper  of  Aquitaine 
speaks  of  Christ  as  "  qui  satiavit  ex  se  ipso  discipulos,  et  toti  se  obtulit 
mundo  t'x^"." 


Eucharistic  Fish.    Crypt  of  St.  Cornelius. 


18  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

a  Fish  from  the  fountain,  very  large  and  pure,  which  a 
pure  Virgin  grasped."  l 

It  is  curious,  as  Bishop  Miinter  points  out,  that  in  the 
Talmud,  the  Messiah  is  called  Dag  or  Fish ;  and  Abarbanel, 
in  his  commentary  on  Daniel,  connects  His  appearance 
with  the  constellation  Pisces. 


Another  common  symbol  of  Christ  is  naturally  the  Vine. 
"  I  am  the  Vine :  ye  are  the  branches."     It  indicated  the 
joyous  and  festive  character  of  the  Christian  Faith,  its 
variety,  its  fragrance,  its  rich  diffusiveness,  its  inspiring 
power.      "What  the   early  Christians  valued,  what  they 
felt,  was  a  new  moral  influence,  a  new  life  stealing  through 
their  veins,  a  new  health  imparted  to  their  frames,  a  new 
courage  breathing  in  their  faces,  like  wine  to  a  wearied  la- 
bourer, like  sap 
in  the  hundred 
branches     of     a 
spreading    tree, 
like  juice  in  the 
thousand     clus- 
ters of  a  spread- 

From  the  Catacombs.  .  .  i 

ing  vine."  2 

There  were  many  later  symbols  of  Christ  which  had  not 
occurred  to  the  simple  imagination  of  the  early  Christians. 
Among  these  is  the  griffin,  indicative  of  His  Divine  and 

1  It  is  from  the  reference  of  the  fish  to  Christ  that  the  font  ("  ut  quae 
aqua  fuerat,  a  pisce  etiam  piscina  vocitetur,"  Optat.  III.  62)  is  called 
piscina,  as  well  as  the  infundibulum  to  the  south  of  the  Holy  Table. 
The    almond-shaped    glory    (mandorla),   the  aureole  which  surrounds 
divine  figures  in  paintings,  is  called  a  vesica  piscis,  a  shape  used  in  all 
ecclesiastical  rings  and  seals.     The  general  notion  of  encircling  the  heads 
of  divine  and  saintly  figures  in  the  nimbus  and  enveloping  them  with  the 
aureole,  or  mandorla,  is  natural.     Comp.  Verg.  ^En.  II.  615  :    "Jam 
summas  arces  Tritonia,  respice,  Pallas  Insedit,  nimbo  effulgens." 

2  Stanley,  Christ.  Inst.,  p.  260. 


RESERVE  IX  PAIXTIXG   CHRIST.  19 

Human  Nature,  as  combining  the  eagle  head  with  the  lion 
body  ;  as  Dante  says  :  — 

"  La  fiera 
Ch'  e  sola  una  persona  in  due  Xature."  l 

(M.)  THE  CROSS  AXD  THE  MONOGRAMS. 

Ezek.  ix.  4,  6 :  Et  signa  Thau  super  frontes  viroruin.  .  .  .  Omnem 
autem  super  quem  videritis  Thau  ne  occidatis. 

"  Crux  fidelis  inter  omnes  arbor  una  nobilis." 

—  VENANTIDS. 

I  have  said  that  some  of  the  varying  ancient  phases  of 
representation  co-existed  side  by  side.  This  is  conspicu- 
ously the  case  with  the  stage  of  symbolism.  It  continued 
long  after  regular  pictures  had  begun.  Two  symbols 
continued  for  ages  to  be  especially  common,  of  which  I 
have  not  yet  spoken.  They  were  not  generally  adopted, 
even  if  they  appeared  at  all,  until  after  the  Peace  of  the 
Church  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century.  I  mean 
the  cross  and  the  monogram  of  Christ.2 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  cross  was  in  itself  an 
object  of  utter  horror  even  to  the  Pagans.  It  was  not 
until  after  the  days  of  corruption  had  begun  in  the  West- 
ern world,  that  the  Romans  borrowed  from  the  East  the 
infinitely  degrading  punishment  of  crucifixion  and  impale- 
ment. This  form  of  execution  had  been  specially  predom- 
inant among  the  Assyrians,  who  were  the  most  brutal  of 
all  the  ancient  conquerors.  We  see  it  represented  on  their 
monuments  with  revolting  callousness.  It  was  felt  to  be 
something  far  more  execrable  than  all  other  forms  of  capi- 
tal punishment,  however  cruel  they  might  be.  An  inex- 
pressible hideousness  attached  to  its  lingering  shame.  In 
it  a  human  being,  with  the  image  of  God  upon  him,  was 
brutally  nailed  to  the  wood,  —  naked,  or  more  rarely  with 

1  Dante,   Pitrg.   XXXI.  80.      "Duo  nature:   di  leone  e  di  aquila  = 
umana  e  divina  (di  Cristo)." — Scartazzini. 

2  For  fullest  details,  see  Stockbauer,    Kunstgesch.  cles  Kreuzes,  pp. 
81-141. 


20  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

only  a  cloth  round  his  loins,  —  and  was  exposed  helplessly 
to  every  form  of  insult.  His  anguish,  which  can  hardly 
be  described  or  conceived,  might  continue  for  days  together. 
During  all  that  time  the  frightfulness  of  death  in  its  most 
abject  form  stared  him  in  the  face,  and  was  complicated 
by  every  variety  and  intensity  of  pain.  Crucifixion  was 
looked  upon  as  worse  even  than  burning.  It  was  reck- 
oned the  most  lingering,  most  agonizing,  most  execrable, 
most  slavish  form  of  death.1  No  more  cynical  and  fiendish 
blasphemy  against  the  divine  dignity  of  human  nature 
could  possibly  be  devised.  On  no  freedman  could  it  be 
inflicted  for  any  crime  however  horrible.  Philo  says  that 
Moses  had  permitted  it  for  the  worst  offences  as  the  most 
awful  penalty  he  could  imagine.  No  wonder  that  the  very 
name  Crux  is  connected  with  the  verb  "  to  torture  "  (cru- 
czo),  and  that  Crux  and  Crucifer  were  terms  of  opprobrium 
to  the  most  desperate  of  villains.  To  the  Hebrews  — 
and  be  it  remembered  multitudes  of  the  early  Christians 
were  converts  from  Judaism  —  the  cross  was  the  "  accursed 
tree " ;  and  the  terrible  words  often  rang  in  their  ears : 
"  Cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree."  2  Even  by 
the  heathen  in  later  days,  though  they  used  it  so  commonly, 
the  cross  was  called  infelix  lignum,  arbor  infelix ;  they 
regarded  it  as  a  frightful  omen,  a  thing  to  be  shuddered 
at,  a  thing  which,  as  Cicero  says,  should  be  kept  not  only 
from  the  sight,  but  from  the  very  thoughts  of  all  free 
men.3 

Hence  the  doctrine  of  the  cross  was  to  the  Jews  a 
stumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness.4  The 
Jews  expressed  the  lowest  depths  of  their  contemptuous 

1  Extrema  pcena,  Apul.  Metam  X.  ;  Paul.  Sent.  v.  tit.  XXI.  ;  servile 
supplicium,  Tac.  Hist.  IV.  11. 

2  Deut.  xxi.  23,  LXX.  :   tiriKa.Tdpa.TOS  6  <rTavpov[j.evos  ;  Gal.  iii.  13.     The 
LXX.  had  the  terrible  addition,  /ceraT^a/u^os  vwo  GeoO,  but  St.  Paul  omits 
those  words,  which  he  could  not  have  quoted  without  a  long  explanation. 

8  "  Nomen  ipsum  Crucis  absit  non  modo  a  corpore  civium  Romanorum, 
sed  etiarn  a  cogitatione,  oculis,  auribus."  — Cic.  pro  Itabirio,  5. 
4  1  Cor.  i.  23 ;  Min.  Felix,  Octav.  9  ;  Tert.  ad  Natt.  I.  11. 


RESERVE   IX  PAINTING  CHRIST.  21 

hatred  when  they  called  Christians  "  worshippers  of  the 
Hung."  1  They  chose  "the  Hung  "  as  their  bitterest  term 
of  opprobrium  for  Christ.  The  Gentiles  thought  that  they 
had  overwhelmed  Christianity  in  scornful  derision  when 
they  described  its  votaries  as  "  devotees  of  a  crucified  male- 
factor." 2  "  Quales  estis,"  they  asked,  "  qui  Deum  colitis 
crucifixum?"  Augustine,  indeed,  replies  that  "the  Son 
of  God  was  crucified  not  that  the  cross  might  disgrace 
Christ,  but  that  by  the  sacredness  of  Christ  the  cross 
should  become  the  emblem  of  victory."  But  it  was  not 
easy  to  remove  an  inveterate  prejudice. 

The  Christians,  therefore,  were  in  this  difficulty :  they 
were  not,  they  could  not  be,  "ashamed  of  the  Cross  of 
Christ."  They  knew  it  to  be  "  the  power  of  God  and  the 
wisdom  of  God  "  to  all  who  were  in  the  way  of  salvation, 
and  only  an  offence  to  the  perishing.  They  were  ready 
to  glory  in  the  cross,  to  suffer  persecution  for  the  cross, 
and,  at  all  hazards,  "  to  preach  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  cruci- 
fied." 3  On  the  other  hand,  the  way  to  win  men  is  not  to 
kindle  their  sense  of  abhorrence.  A  holy  wisdom  taught 
the  Christians  not  to  scare  both  Gentiles  and  Jews  from 
all  access  to  their  religion  by  wilfully  insulting  their  most 
violent  prejudices,  or  by  needlessly  forcing  upon  them  a 
difficulty  which,  unless  rightly  approached  and  understood, 
was  to  them  practically  insuperable.  Nor  were  they  in 
the  least  bound  to  do  this.  The  cross  did  not  express  the 
whole  of  Christianity.  The  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation 
was  one  which  included  that  of  the  Crucifixion.  Christ, 
in  His  attributes  of  Saviour  of  the  world,  was  as  truly,  as 
fully,  as  faithfully  set  forth  in  the  aspect  of  the  Good 

1  "br\  TOK. 

2  Comp.  Jos.  c.  Ap.  II.  10.     The  blasphemous  graffito,  pictured  infra, 
shews  how  wise  the  early  Christians  were  in  their  reserve.     It  was  found 
in  the  Pcedagogium,  or  Pages'  school,  under  the  Palatine,  and  is  of  the 
second  century.     See  Stockbauer,  Kunstgesch.  des  Kreuzes,  p.  79. 

3  1  Cor.  i.  18,  ii.  2  ;  Gal.  v.  11.      It  is,  however,  necessary  to  add  the 
caution  that  these  texts  are  sometimes  misunderstood  and  thrust  into 
false  perspective. 


22  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

Shepherd  as  in  that  of  the  agonizing  sufferer.  Either 
symbol,  if  taken  alone,  was  incomplete;  nor,  indeed,  can 
any  symbol  be  all-comprehensive.  Man's  salvation  was 
not  wrought  only  by  the  death  of  Christ ;  still  less  by  the 
sole  fact  that  His  death,  though  brief,  was  shameful  and 
agonizing.  It  was  wrought  by  His  nativity,  by  His  life, 
by  all  His  words,  and  all  His  works.  It  was  not  as  the 
humiliated  victim  that  He  was  present  most  consciously 
or  most  habitually  to  the  minds  of  His  children  in  the 
early  centuries.  They  thought  of  Him  more  often  as  that 
which  He  was  and  ever  shall  be,  —  the  Son  of  God  who 
sitteth  to  make  intercession  for  us  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Majesty  on  High.  They  did  not  morbidly  meditate  upon 
the  three  hours  during  which  He  hung  upon  the  tree. 
That  scene  in  man's  redemption  was  over  forever.  It  was 
one  sacrifice,  oblation,  and  satisfaction,  offered  once  for  all, 
full,  perfect,  sufficient.1  Christ  suffered  no  more.  Their 
Lord  was  now  enthroned  amid  endless  hallelujahs,  as  the 
Lord  of  time  and  all  the  worlds.  They  wished  all  men  — 
Jews  and  Gentiles  alike  —  so  to  think  of  Him. 

Therefore,  while  they  did  not  for  a  moment  omit  the 
cross  from  their  beliefs,  they  did  not  dwell  predominantly, 
still  less  exclusively,  upon  it.  To  all  the  world  except 
themselves,  the  horrible  gibbet  which  Roman  corruption 
had  introduced  from  the  devilishness  of  Eastern  cruelty 
was  undissociable  from  "ideas  of  pain,  of  guilt,  of  igno- 
miny." Such  associations  were  the  reverse  of  the  joyous, 
the  exultant,  the  inspiring,  the  soul-regenerating  concep- 
tions which  the  presence  of  Christ's  Spirit  breathed  into  the 
hearts  and  lives  of  the  children  of  the  kingdom.  "  Crosses," 
said  Minucius  Felix,  "  we  neither  worship  nor  desire." 

It  is  true  that  among  themselves,  as  early  as  the  third 
century,  they  constantly  used  the  sign  of  the  cross.2 

1  Heb.  ix.  7,  8,  6  Xpio-rds  <Jira£  irpo<revex9fk  ;  1  Pet.  iii.  18. 

2  Tert.  De  Cor.  Mil.  3.     Comp.  Chrys.  Horn.  XI.  ad  Pop.  A  ntioch ; 
Jer.  Epp.   XXII.  7,  CXXX.  9;   Aug.    Serm.   CLXXXI.     Comp.   Just. 
Mart.  Apol.  I.  60. 


RESERVE  IN  PAINTING  CHRIST.  23 

But  even  in  using  it  they  did  not  connect  it  with  all  the 
erring  and  harrowing  associations  which  were  attached  to 
it  by  mediaeval  superstition.  They  used  it  as  a  token  of 
recognition ;  as  a  sign  of  fellowship  ;  as  a  reminder  of  the 
duty  of  self-denial ;  as  a  symbol  of  consolation  in  days  of 
persecution ;  as  an  encouragement  to  self-control,  to  self- 
dedication  at  all  times.  That  it  did  not  remind  them  of  the 
Crucifixion  only,  or  even  mainly,  is  proved  alike  by  their 
literature  arid  their  relics.  It  was  to  them,  as  we  shall 
see,  a  distant,  and  at  first  disguised,  symbol  of  the  Person 
of  the  Lord  in  its  full  humanity.  It  seems  to  have  been  to 
every  believer  the  sign  of  the  New  Covenant,  and  of  his  per- 
sonal share  in  it.  The  Greek  letter  Chi,  which  forms  a  cross 
(X),  was  the  initial  of  Christ's  name  or  title.  As  such,  it 
came  to  mean,  or,  rather,  to  recall,  to  the  Christian  mind 
all  the  thoughts  and  associations  which  the  word  Christ  can 
awaken.  It  stood  in  the  place  of  a  portrait-figure  as  a  sym- 
bol of  the  God-man.  For  a  time  it  was,  so  to  speak,  all 
things  to  all  men.  To  the  first  members  of  the  Church  it 
represented  their  Master,  who  was  all  in  all  to  them ;  and, 
in  that  point  of  view,  which  is  a  wider  and  happier  one 
than  any  of  later  days,  it  represented  the  whole  faith,  —  the 
person  of  Christ,  His  death  for  man,  and  the  life  and  death 
of  man  in  Christ.  The  gradual  drift  of  Christian  feeling 
towards  special  or  exclusive  contemplation  of  the  Lord's 
sufferings  and  death  is  a  matter  of  ecclesiastical  history. 
The  effects  which  that  tendency  exercised  on  Christian 
emotion,  and,  therefore,  on  Christian  art,  are  marked  by  the 
transition  from  the  cross  to  the  crucifix.1 

It  may  be  objected  that  these  are  the  views  of  a  Prot- 
estant writer,  but  Romanists  admit  the  same.  "  La  croix, 
imitant  la  lettre  T,"  says  Martigny,  —  and  it  must  be 
remembered  that  T  is  the  earliest  form  under  which  the 
cross  appeared  at  all,  —  "Stait  un  symbole  de  vie,  defSlicitt, 
de  salut"  I  would  call  specially  attention  to  this  remark 
of  the  learned  Roman  prelate :  the  cross  was  not  an  object 

1  R.  St.  J.  Tyrrwhitt,  Art  Teaching,  pp.  198,  216. 


24  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

to  be  contemplated  with  morbid  excitement  and  hysteric 
sobs,  but  was  an  emblem  of  salvation,  of  felicity,  of  life. 

And  yet  the  cross  was  only  introduced  among  Christian 
symbols  tentatively  and  timidly.  It  may  be  doubted 
whether  it  once  occurs  till  after  the  vision  of  Constantine 
in  312,  and  his  accession  to  the  Empire  of  the  East  and 
West  in  324. 

Crosses  were  of  two  kinds.1  The  Crux  Simplex, "  of  one 
single  piece  without  transom,"  was  a  mere  stake  (pains}, 
used  sometimes  to  impale,  sometimes  to  hang  the  victim 
by  the  hands.2 

The  Compound  Cross,  Crux  compacta,  was  of  three 
various  kinds. 

i.  The  Crux  commissa  was  a  cross  in  the  shape  of  the 
letter  T,  and  is  called  St.  Anthony's  Cross.  A  variety 
of  it  is  the  handled  cross  (crux  ansata),  key  of  the  Nile, 
or  symbol  of  life,  so  common  on  the  Egyptian  monuments. 

ii.  The  Crux  decussata  is  St.  Andrew's  or  the  Burgun- 
dian  Cross.  It  is  in  the  shape  of  the  Greek  letter  X.  "  The 
letter  X,"  says  St.  Jerome,  "  in  shape,  denotes  the  cross ; 
in  number,  Ten."  3 

iii.  The  Crux  immissa  or  capitata  is  the  ordinary  Latin 
cross.  When  the  arms  are  equal,  it  is  called  the  Greek 

1  The  following  tabular  illustration  may  make  the  text  more  clear :  — 
Cross 


Simple 
(A  stake) 

.  1 
Compound 

1 

1 
The  T  Cross 
(commissa  : 

The  X                  + 
St.  Andrew's           The 

t 
The 

analogous  to  the  or  Greek  Latin  Cross 

Egyptian  symbol  of  life        Burgundian  Cross.  Cross,      (capitata, 
Crux  ansata}  ;  St.  Anthony's         (decussata.}  or  immissa.') 

Cross. 

For  much  curious  information  about  these  crosses,  for  which  there  is 
no  space  here,  see  my  article  on  "Cross,"  "Crucifixion,"  in  Smith's 
Diet,  of  the  Bible.  For  a  description  of  the  cross  on  the  Labarum  of 
Constantine,  see  Euseb.  Vit.  Const.  I.  31. 

2  See  Tert.  Apol.  16.  3  Jer.  in  Jer.  xxxi. 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING   CHRIST.  25 

cross.1  When  it  has  a  second  transom,  the  upper  one  is 
intended  to  represent  the  plank  over  the  head  (titulus*) 
on  which  the  accusation  was  written. 

(i.)  The  first  cross  which  appears  on  the  monuments  — 
though  not  till  the  end  of  the  second  century  at  the  ear- 
liest —  is  the  T  cross  (commissa  or  patibulata),  and  even 
that  occurs  but  rarely.  It  is  found  thus  Ire  T  ne  on  a 
third  century  tomb  in  the  cemetery  of  St.  Callistus.  The 
Greek  cross  is  found,  as  a  sort  of  full  stop,  on  the  tomb 
of  Ruffina  in  the  crypt  of  St.  Lucina.2 

This  form  of  the  cross  excited  no  animosity  either  in 
Jews  or  Pagans.  As  regards  the  Jews,  they  would  not 
have  been  alienated  by  a  sign  which  is  directly  sanctioned 
in  the  Prophet  Ezekiel.  In  Ezek.  ix.  4,  Jehovah  bids  a 
cherub  go  and  set  a  cross  (Heb.  W)  on  the  foreheads  of 
those  that  mourn  for  Israel's  sins,  and  all  except  those 
who  bear  this  T  cross  are  to  be  slain.  On  this  St.  Jerome 
remarks,  "  The  Greek  letter  than  and  our  T  is  a  species 
of  cross."  3 

The  Pagans  would  merely  regard  it  as  a  form  of  the 
"  handled  cross,"  the  well-known  Egyptian  symbol  of  life. 
It  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  an  emblem  anticipatory 
and  directly  prophetic,  handed  down  from  earliest  times. 


1  A6pv  TeTpdTrXfvpov.  —  Xoimus.     On  its  mystic  significance,  see  Iren. 
Hcer.  ii.  24,  Aug.  in  Ps.  ciii. 

2  Some  of  the  most  ancient  basilicas  were  built  in  this  shape.     Boldetti 
reckons  as  the  first  cross  one  on  a  tomb  of  A.D.  370.     See  Paulinus  Ep. 
XXIV.  23. 

3  See  supra,  §  1.     Comp.  Job  xxxi.  35  :   "Lo,  here  is  my  signature." 
(Heb.    Thau.)      Augustine  here  asks  (Tract.  118  in  Job):   "Quid  est 
signum  Christi  nisi  crux  Christi  ?  "      On   old  Phoenician   coins   the   «, 
the  last  letter  of  the  Hebrew  alphabet,  is  T  (Gesen.  Num.  Phoen.  47). 
Ruffinus  says  that  it  was  used  as  one  of  the  Egyptian  hieratic  letters,  and 
the  same  symbol  has  been  found  in  other  nations.     In  Rev.  vii.  3,  the 
seal  on    the   forehead   is  not  the  cross,  but  the  name  of  God.     Comp. 
xiv.  1.    The  T  cross  may  be  seen  on  the  breast  of  an  Egyptian  mummy  in 
the  museum  of  the  London  University  ;   in  the  ruined  cities  of  Mexico 
and  Nicaragua  ;   in   Kamschatka  ;   at   Babylon  ;   at  Khorsabad  ;   in  the 
South  Pacific,  etc.     See  Edinb.  Bev.,  April,  1876,  "The  Prsechristian 
Cross." 


26 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX  ART. 


(ii.)  The  Latin  Cross  is  not  certainly  known  to  occur 
before   it   is   found   on   the  tomb  of  the   Empress   Galla 

Placidia  at  Ravenna  in 
A.D.  451. 

(iii.)    The   Crux  de- 
cussata,  or  St.  Andrew's 
Cross    (X),    is    found 
earlier  than  this  ;  but 
first  letter  of   the  name  of 


/a. 


Egyptian  Crux  Ansata. 

may  be    meant  only  for  the 


which  stood 


Christ.    It  easily  passes  into  the  monogram 

for  lesus  Xristus ;  and  so 

into  the  well-known  later 

monogram   (>K  5^)?  which 

Constantine  placed,  on  his 

Labarum  after  his  vision. 

Then  "  the  towering  eagles 

resigned  the  flags  into  the 

cross,"  1  and  "  the  tree  of 

cursing  and  shame  sat  upon  the  foreheads  of  kings."  2  The 

objections  to  prominent  re- 
presentation of  the  cross  di- 
minished as  the  punishment 
grew  rare.  Crucifixion  was 
finally  abolished  forever  by 
Constantine.3  The  form  of 
the  monogram  which  resem- 
bles the  handled  cross  (-f-) 
did  not  become  common  till 
the  fifth  century.  It  first  ap- 
pears in  364  on  the  sceptre 
of  Valentinian  I.  and  the 
coins  of  Valentinian  III. 

It  has  been  supposed  that  the  letter  P  (the  Greek  Rho) 

1  Bishop  Pearson,  On  the  Creed.     "Regum  purpuras  et  ardentes  dia- 
dematum  gemmas  patibuli  Salvatoris  pictura  condecorat." — Jer.  Ep.  ad 
Laetam. 

2  Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor.  3  Sozom.  I.  8. 


The  Labarum  on  a  coin  of  Constantine. 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTING   CHRIST. 


27 


was  not  only  used  in  this  monogram  as  the  second  letter 
in  the  name  of  Christ,  but  that  it  was  also  a  symbol  of 
the  idea  of  "  Help,"  because,  by  the  Greek  method  of 
isopsephism,  and  the  Jewish  G-ematria,  the  numerical 
values  of  the  separate  letters  of  the  Greek  word  /3o?;$eta, 
"help,"  =  100,  and  the  letter  P  also  stands  for  100.  I  have 
not  been  able  to  trace 
any  authority  for 
this  view,  and  proba- 
bly in  any  case  it  was 
only  an  afterthought. 
But  even  the  Latin 
cross,  pure  and  sim- 
ple, was  always  re- 
garded, not  as  an 
object  of  gloom,  mor- 
tification, and  horror, 
but  of  peace  and  ex- 
ultation ;  not  as  the 
symbol  of  shame  and 
spitting,  but  of  life 
and  triumph.  In- 
stances of  it  in  the 
fifth  century  are 
united  with  joyous 
emblems,  and  the 
cross  in  the  cemetery 
of  St.  Pontianus  blos- 
soms into  flowers  and 
foliage  of  gold  and  silver,  and  is  enriched  with  gems.  So 
sings  St.  Paulinus  of  Nola :  — 

"  Ardua  floriferae  crux  cingitur  orbe  coronae 
Et  Domini  f  uso  tincta  cruore  rubet ;  " 

and  Prudentius :  — 


From  the  catacomb  of  St.  Pontianus.    Eighth  century. 


;Crucem  corona  lucido  cingit  globo." 


28  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

So  sings  St.  Fortunatus  in  the  hymn  "  Vexilla  regis  pro- 
deunt " :  — 

"  Arbor  decora  et  f  ulgida 
Ornata  regis  purpura." 

And  this  sentiment  is  still  echoed  and  translated  in  mod- 
ern hymns :  — 

"  Faithful  cross  above  all  others, 

One  and  only  noble  tree, 
None  in  foliage,  none  in  blossom, 
None  in  fruit,  thy  peer  may  be." 

(iv.)  The  cross  probably  lurked,  in  a  somewhat  dis- 
guised form,  under  the  figures  known  as  Gammadias,  or 
crossed  Gammas l  (=^  ^ ),  as  the  ornament  of  dresses, 
late  in  the  third  century.  This  cross  (called  eroix  pattee, 
Pfotchenkreuz)  is  found  on  the  mantle  of  the  Good 
Shepherd,  and  also  on  the  robes  of  Christians.  They  may 
be  seen  on  the  dress  of  the  humble  fossor  (sexton)  Diog- 
enes, in  the  cemetery  of  Domitilla,  whose  sweet  and 
peaceful  face  has  often  been  admired.  He  is  introduced 
as  an  imaginaiy  actor  in  Cardinal  Wiseman's  little  story 
of  Fabiola.  In  this  form  the  cross  is  curiously  identical 
with  the  Buddhist  Swastika^  —  the  two  pieces  of  wood 
rubbed  together  to  produce  fire,  —  which  was  the  sign  of 
life.2 

"  It  would  be  difficult,"  says  Dr.  Maitland,  "  to  find  a 
more  complete  revolution  of  feeling  among  mankind,  than 
that  which  has  taken  place  concerning  the  instrument  of 
crucifixion."  But  nothing  can  now  rob  the  cross  of  the 
dignity  which  has  gathered  round  it.  In  the  change,  how- 
ever, from  the  cross  to  the  crucifix,  of  which  we  shall 
speak  hereafter,  "  the  original  intention  of  the  symbol  was 
entirely  lost.  From  being  a  token  of  joy,  an  object  worthy 
to  be  crowned  with  flowers,  a  sign  in  which  to  conquer,  it 

1  Gamma  (T)  is  the  Greek  capital  G. 

2  Much  curious  information  about  these  Pagan  analogies  may  be  found 
in  Dr.  Lundy's  Monumental  Christianity,  New  York,  1876. 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING   CHRIST.  29 

became  a  thing  of  tears  and  agony,  a  stock  subject  with 
the  artist  desiring  to  display  his  power  of  representing 
anguish." l 


(m.)  INDIRECT  PAGAN  TYPES. 

In  an  early  stage  of  Christian  Art  Christ  was  repre- 
sented indirectly  by  symbols  derived  from  Paganism.  The 
predominance  of  purely  decorative  Pagan  analogies  is 
specially  noticeable  in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Januarius  at 
Naples.2 

This  was,  no  doubt,  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the  early 
Christian  painters  who  decorated  the  Catacombs  were 
hardly  able  at  once  to  revolutionize  the  types  of  art  with 
which  they  had  been  familiar  for  centuries.  "  Un  art  ne 
s'improvise  pas,"  says  M.  Raoul  Rochette.  "  Early  Chris- 
tian art,"  says  Professor  Woltmann,  "  does  not  differ  in  its 
beginnings  from  the  art  of  antiquity."  Christians  had  to 
baptize,  as  it  were,  all  that  could  be  baptized  of  the  ancient 
heathen  types.  They  had  themselves  been  Pagans,  and 
were  unaccustomed  to  any  but  Pagan  decorations,  into 
which  they  infused  a  new  spirit.  This  they  rejoiced  to  do, 
since  it  indicated  their  conviction  that  all  which  was  beau- 
tiful and  true  in  the  ancient  legends  found  its  fulfilment 
in  Christ,  and  was  but  a  symbol  of  His  life  and  work.  In 
times  of  peril  and  persecution  there  was  a  distinct  advan- 
tage in  the  use  of  symbols  which  (fywvavra  avverolo-Lv) 
were  full  of  divine  significance  to  Christians,  while  they 
did  not  arouse  the  fury  and  disgust  of  the  countless 
heathen.3  The  Christians,  with  large-hearted  wisdom,  re- 
garded the  noblest  mythic  conceptions  as  "parhelia  of 
Christianity,"  and  "unconscious  prophecies  of  heat-he  n- 

1  Maitland,  Ch.  of  the  Catacombs,  162  ;  Milman's  Hist,  of  Latin  Chris- 
tianity, III.  515;  Hampton  Lectures,  279. 

2  See  Schulze,  Die  Katakomben  von  San  Gennaro,  Jena,  1877. 

3  See  Peivet,  Catacombes  de  Home,  VI.  35. 


30 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


dom,"  as  they  are  called  by  Archbishop  Trench.1     Orpheus 
and  the  Sibyls  were  regarded  as  prophets  of  Christ.2 

Of  these  types  of  Christ,  borrowed  from  Pagan  anti- 
quity, the  favourite  was  Orpheus  taming  the  wild  beasts 
with  his  lyre.  Two  specimens  are  found  in  the  Catacomb 

of  St.  Callistus,  and  Bol- 
detti  even  imagined  that 
they  might  be  as  old  as 
the  days  of  Nero.3  Or- 
pheus is  represented  in 
the  bloom  of  youth,  clad 
in  a  chlamys  and  anaxyr- 
ides,  with  a  Phrygian 
cap,  supporting  on  his 
knee  his  five-stringed 
harp.  Around  him  lion, 
and  wolf,  and  leopard, 
and  horse,  and  sheep, 
and  serpent,  and  tortoise  are  listening ;  and  on  the  branches 


1  See  Lactant.   Instt.  I.  5.  4.     Orpheus,   like  Christ,  died  a  violent 
death,  and  had  descended  to  the  shades  below.     "  Orpheus,  Musaeus 
Linus,  deos  colueruut,  non  pro  Diis  culti  sunt."  —  Aug.  Civ.  Dei,  XVIII. 
14.    The  remarks  of  Clement  of  Alexandria  on  this  type  in  his  Protrep- 
tikon  are  very  interesting.    "  Not  such,"  he  says,  "  is  my  singer.    Orpheus 
tamed  beasts,  Christ  tamed  men :  birds,  i.e.  the  frivolous ;  serpents,  i.e. 
the  deceivers;  lions,  i.e.  the  furious;  swine,  i.e.  the  lustful ;  wolves,  i.e. 
the  avaricious;  stones  and  trees,  i.e.  the  unintelligent."     See  De  Rossi, 
II.  357. 

2  Aug.  c.  Faust.  XVII.  15.     These  Pagan  symbols  naturally  did  not 
last  for  many  centuries.     They  are  found  chiefly  in  the  ancient  crypts  of 
Lucina,  Domitilla,  Priscilla,  and  Prsetextatus.    As  regards  the  woodcuts, 
it  may  be  remarked  that  the  few  frescoes  which  remain  unremoved  and 
unobliterated  in  the  open  part  of  the  Catacombs  may  be,  perhaps,  better 
judged  of  by  those  who  have  not  seen  them  from  Mr.  Parker's  photo- 
graphs, or  from  the  original  sketches  in  Maitland,  than  from  Aringhi's 
elaborate  copper  plates,  or  the  splendid  fantasies  of  Ferret's  sumptuous 
volumes. 

8  Boldetti,  Cimiteri,  Rome,  1720.  Specimens  of  Christ  as  Orpheus  are 
given  by  Bosio,  255  ;  Aringhi,  I.  563  ;  Garrucci,  Pitture,  taw.  30,  etc.  ; 
Bottari,  VII.,  LXIIL,  etc. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTING   CHRIST.  31 

of  the  tree  are  seated  peacocks  and  other  birds.1  That 
gracious  and  beautiful  figure  subduing  the  savage  passions 
of  the  animals,  and  drawing  all  to  listen  to  him  with  sweet 
attractiveness,  appeared  to  the  ancient  Christians  a  most 
fit  emblem  of  Christ  drawing  order  out  of  confusion  and 
gentleness  out  of  ferocity.  It  recalled  also  the  Messianic 
prophecies  about  the  day  when  "  the  wolf  also  shall  dwell 
with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the 
kid ;  and  the  calf  and  the  young  lion  and  the  fading  to- 
gether ;  and  a  little  child  shall  lead  them."  2 

It  must  not  be  supposed  for  a  moment  that  there  was 
not  an  unfathomable  gulf  between  Pagan  and  Christian 
Art,  even  when  they  used  the  same  symbols.  "  Pompeii," 
says  Perret,  "  shews  the  worship  of  form,  the  adoration  of 
matter,  the  marvels  of  grace  and  physical  perfection.  The 
Catacombs  set  forth  the  life  of  the  soul,  love,  modesty,  and 
prayer."  3 

There  was  another  reason  why  the  symbol  of  Orpheus 
was  so  dear  to  the  early  Christians.  Joy  and  the  blithe 
serenity,  which  viewed  death  with  no  alarm  or  self-abase- 
ment, were  their  marked  characteristics.  St.  Luke  throws 
a  flood  of  light  on  the  tone  of  their  society  —  "  drunken, 
but  not  with  wine,"  intoxicated,  so  to  speak,  with  the  rush- 
ing influences  of  Pentecost — when  he  says  that  "they  did 
take  their  food  with  exultation  (a7aXXtWt<?)  and  single- 
ness (tt^eXor?;?)  of  heart."  The  words  indicate  their  bound- 
ing gladness,  their  simplicity  and  smoothness  of  feeling, 
"  as  of  a  plain  without  stones  or  a  field  without  furrows."  * 

1  See  Jerome  (in  Matt,  xxi.),  where  he  argues  for  the  human  beauty 
of  Christ  from  the  look  of  genius  and  inspiration  ascribed  by  Philostratus 
to  Orpheus.      "  Igneum  quiddam  et  sidereuin  radiabat  oculis  ejus,  et 
divinitatis  majestas  lucebat  ex  facie." 

Martigny  also  refers  to  Origen  (Horn.  XX.  in  Matt,  xxix.)  ;  Euseb.  De 
Laud.  Constant,  XIV. ;  Greg.  Nyss.  Hexaem.  7  ;  Lactant.  Instt.  VII.  24. 

2  Isa.  xi.  6,  Ixv.  25.    The  symbol  disappears  in  the  third  century,  per- 
haps because  it  was  multiplied  in  later  Pagan  art. 

3  Perret,  Catacombes  de  Home,  VI.  35. 

*  Acts  ii.  4(3.     Dean  Stanley  says  of  the  Catacombs  :  "Everything  is 


32  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

A  joy  passing  the  joy  of  harvest  was  a  priceless  possession 
of  which  they  alone  held  the  secret,  and  what  seemed 
passing  strange  to  the  ancient  world  was  their  divine 
paradox  of  gladness  in  the  midst  of  anguish.  They  were 
"  in  much  affliction  with  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  1 

When  St.  Paul  Avrote  those  words  in  his  earliest  extant 
epistle,  he  wrote  of  a  new  power  in  the  world.  For  the 
early  Christians  neither  life  nor  death  had  any  terror. 
Their  view  of  death  is  expressed  in  the  prayer  of  the 
Alexandrian  liturgy,  "Assemble  them  (the  dead),  O  Lord, 
in  green  pastures,  beside  the  still  waters,  in  the  paradise  of 
joy,  whence  grief,  and  sadness,  and  groans  are  banished." 
Read  the  poems  of  Ovid  in  his  exile.  Read  the  letters  of 
Cicero  and  of  Seneca  in  theirs.  Then  read  the  letter 
which  St.  Paul  wrote  to  the  Philippians  from  his  gloomy 
prison  and  abounding  anguish,  and  contrast  the  hopeless, 
pusillanimous  wailing  of  the  Pagan  poet  and  the  wealthy 
philosophers  with  St.  Paul's  jubilant  cry,  which  he  fears 
will  even  weary  his  converts  by  its  reiteration,  "  Rejoice 
in  the  Lord  always ;  again  I  will  say  rejoice."  Compare 
the  Rome  of  gilded  palaces,  where  men  clutched  at  the 
possibility  of  suicide  as  the  main  resource  and  hope  in  life, 
with  the  bright,  gleeful  faces  and  sunny  emblems  of  inex- 
tinguishable happiness  scrawled  in  the  damp  galleries  of 
the  Catacombs.  Compare  the  agony  and  defiance  of  Pagan 
epitaphs,  like  that  of  Procope,  "  I,  Procope,  lift  up  my 
hands  against  the  gods  who  took  me  hence  undeserving," 
with  the  glad  cry  of  the  Christian  over  his  dead  wife, 
"  Terentiana  lives"  or,  "  Agape,  thou  shalt  live  forever." 
Compare  the  hopelessness  of  the  bereaved  Pagan  father, 


cheerful  and  joyous.  There  is  neither  the  cross  of  the  fifth  and  sixth 
centuries  ;  nor  the  crucifix  or  crucifixion  of  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  ;  nor 
the  tortures  and  martyrdoms  of  the  seventeenth  ;  nor  the  skeletons  of  the 
fifteenth  ;  nor  the  cypresses  and  death's-heads  of  the  eighteenth.  There 
are  instead  wreaths  of  roses,  winged  genii,  children  playing."  —  Christian 
Instt.  251. 

1  Acts  v.  41 ;  1  Thess.  i.  6. 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTING  CHRIST. 


33 


"  Our  hope  was  in  our  boy ;  now  all  is  ashes  and  lamenta- 
tion," or  (on  the  tomb  of  a  child  of  five),  "  To  the  un- 
righteous gods,  who  robbed  me  of  my  life,"  with  the  cheer- 
ful resignation  of  the  Christian  father,  "Marcus,  innocent 
boy,  thou  art  now  among  the  innocent."  In  the  Catacombs 
will  not  be  found  one  note  of  scorn  or  defiance,  such  as 
we  find  in  the  heathen  epitaphs,  "Here  it  is;  so  it  is; 
nothing  else  could  be";  or  "Hold  all  a  mockery,  reader; 
nothing  is  our  own  "  ;  or  the  common  one,  — 

"  Decipimur  fatis,  et  ternpore  falliraur,  et  mors 
Deridet  curas ;  anxia  vita  uihil." 

Few  facts  are  more  striking  in  the  history  of  early  Chris- 
tianity than  that  its  records  are  so  largely  borrowed  from 
the  dark,  subterranean  places,  where  martyrs  were  buried, 
and  the  persecuted  took  refuge,  yet  that  all  their  emblems 
were  emblems  of  gladness,  —  the  green  leaf,  the  palm 
branch,  the  vine  with  its  purple  clusters,  the  peacocks,  the 
dolphin,  the  phoenix,  the  winged  genii,  the  lamb,  the  dove, 
the  flower.  "There  is  no  sign  of  mourning,  no  token  of 
resentment,  no  expression  of  vengeance,"  says  Dean  Mil- 
man  ;  *••  all  breathes  softness,  benevolence,  charity."  So 
serene  is  the  resigna- 
tion of  the  Christian 
survivors  that  even 
dolens,  "grieving,"  — 
the  mildest  expres- 
sion of  sorrow,  —  is 
found  but  rarely ;  and 
infelix,  "  luckless,"  oc- 
curs but  once.1 

No  Pagan  symbol, 
therefore,  better  ac- 
corded with  their  tone  of  mind  than  that  which  repre- 


Cupid  and  Psyche.    Catacomb  of  St.  Doinitilla. 


1  Milman,  History  of  Latin  Christianity,  III.  402  ;  Hemans,  Ancient 
Christianity,  46  ;  Burgon,  Letters  from  Some,  199,  211  ;  Lundy,  Monu- 
mental Christianity,  39. 


34 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST 


ART. 


sented  the  youthful  Orpheus  bending  the  listening  trees 
and  charming  the  savage  lions  by  his  celestial  harmonies. 
It  indicated  Christ  as  the  King  of  Love  and  Peace,  as  the 
Law  of  life,  and  the  Harmony  of  the  world. 

Other  Pagan  symbols  adopted  by  Christianity  were  those 
of  the  winged  Psyche,  the  Sirens,  and  Hercules  feeding 
the  dragon  with  poppy  seed.  The  story  of  Cupid  and 
Psyche,  of  which  there  are  several  instances,  was  chosen 
as  the  emblem  of  God's  love  for  the  soul. 


£y.)  CHRIST  REPRESENTED  UNDER  OLD  TESTAMENT  TYPES. 

1  Cor.  X.  6 :  ravra  dt  TI/TTOI  i]fj.wi>  fytvovro. 
\  Cor.  X.  11 :  Trdma  TVWOI  ffvvtfia.ivov. 

"Novum  Testamentum  in  Vetere  latet."  — AUG. 

"Lex  nova,  res  ;  antiqua,  typus  :  diffusior  ilia, 
Haec  brevior:  retegit  ista  quod  ilia  tegit." 

—  ADAM  DE  S.  VICTORS,  De  laud.  8.  Scripturae. 

Christian  Art  went  a  step  further  when  it  presented 
Christ  or  His  work  typically,  by  Old 
Testament  scenes  in  which  He  was 
prefigured.  These  explain  them- 
selves, and  we  need  not  dwell 
upon  them  here.1  The  subjects,  as 
Mommsen  says,  are  handled  very 
freely,  and,  according  to  circum- 
stances, vary  in  minor  details  from 
the  Biblical  tradition.2 

The  five  commonest  are  :  — 
i.    Moses  striking  the  Rock,  as  a 
type  of   Christ   giving   the    Living 
Water ;  and  (less  often)  Moses  tak- 


Catacomb  of  St.  Marcellinus. 


ing  the  shoes  off  his  feet.3 

1  See  Garrucci,  Storia,  I.  Book  V.  DelV  Antico  Testamento. 

2  Mommsen,  The  Catacombs,  Cont.  Bev.,  July,  1871,  p.  175. 

8  The  woodcuts   are  from   the   cemeteries    of    St.    Marcellinus    and 
St.  Callistus. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTING  CHRIST. 


35 


ii.  The  History  of  Jonah.  The  four  stages  of  his  his- 
tory are  often  set  forth  together  as  on  the  accompanying 
gem.  He  was  especially  a  type  of  Christ's  Resurrection, 
and  St.  Augustine  says  that  these  pictures  of  him  were 
a  common  topic  of  Pagan  derision.1  There  are  many 


From  the  catacomb  of  St.  Lucina. 

reasons  why  the  type  of  Jonah  was  so  frequently  repeated 
by  ancient  Christian  Art.  The  story  recalled  our  Lord's 
direct  allusion  to  Jonah's  preaching  (Matt.  xii.  39 ;  Luke 
xi.  29)  ;  and  the  prophet's  deliver- 
ance was  a  natural  emblem  of  the 
Resurrection.  "Christ,"  says  St. 
Augustine,  "passed  from  the  wood 
of  the  cross,  as  Jonah  from  the 
ship  to  the  whale  (or  the  power  of 
death) ,  the  endangered  crew  are 
the  human  race,  battered  by  the 
tempests  of  the  world;  and  as 
Jonah  preached  to  Nineveh  after  his  return  to  life,  so  the 
Gentile  Church  only  heard  the  Lord's  word  after  the 
Resurrection."2  The  fish  in  these  pictures  is  represented 

1  Aug.  Horn.   VI.   De   Jona  :  "  Multo  cachinno  a  paganis   graviter 
irrisum  animadverti,"  73. 

2  Ep.  ad  Deo-Gratias.     Qu.  VI.  De  Jona. 


Fourth  century  gem. 


36 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


as  a  sort  of  monster  (Heb.  dag  gadol,  sometimes  described 
in  Greek  as  Otjp  eWA-to?).  In  the  representations  of  the 
"  gourd "  (Heb.  qiqaion,  LXX.  /coX-otcvvdr),  in  old  Latin 
versions  called  cycurbita)  the  fruit  is  always  prominent; 
but  in  later  representations  it  has  ivy-shaped  leaves,  as 
though  in  concession  to  Jerome's  novel  rendering  of 
"ivy"  (Jiedera).  The  representation  of  this  scene  seems 

to  recall  the  folly  of  resisting 
the  will  of  God. 

iii.  Daniel  in  the  Lions' 
Den.  He  is  usually  repre- 
sented standing  naked  be- 
tween two  lions,  a  type  of  the 
victory  of  Innocence.  But 
since  Christian  Art,  as  a  rule, 
avoided  the  nude,  the  fact 
that  Daniel  is  almost  always 
represented  undraped  shews 
that  he  was  made  a  type  of 
Christ's  Resurrection,  and  of 
the  Christian  soul  delivered  from  the  two  lions  of  sin  and 
death. 

iv.    The  Sacrifice  of  Abraham. 


From  the  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus. 


From  the  catacomb  of  St.  Marcellinus. 


v.    The  Three  Children  in  the   Furnace.      It  may  be 
imagined  that  this  type  would  be  full  of  consolation  to 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING  CHRIST.  37 

those  who  had  seen  their  brethren  wrapped  in  the  hideous 
pitchy  tunic,  and  burning  as  living  torches  in  the  gardens 
of  Nero. 


From  the  catacomb  of  Domitilla. 

(•v.)   CHKIST  REPRESENTED  BY  NEW  TESTAMENT  ALLUSIONS. 
The  Good  Shepherd. 

"  rb  d7roXu>X6s  irp&fiaTov  fyu  elftc  d.vaKd\€ff6v  fix 
KO.I  ffuffov  ^."  —  Greek  Funeral  Office. 


'  '  Bone  pastor,  panis  vere, 
Jesu  nostri  miserere  ; 
Tu  nos  pasce,  nos  tuere, 
Tu  nos  bona  fac  videre."  —  ST.  THOM.  AQUIN. 

"Die  symbolischen  Darstellungen  christlicher  Malerei  .  .  .  von  den 
einfachsten  Motiven  ansging,  und  sich  bis  zur  Christusgestalt  erhob,  der 
als  der  gute  Hirt  Lamm  auf  den  Schultern  tragend  erscheiut."  —  MOLLIX, 
Die  Kunst.,  p.  141. 

A  still  nearer  step  to  the  direct  representation  of 
Christ,  though  chronologically  earlier,  is  taken  when  the 
picture  is  directly  allusive. 

Of  this  advance,  the  simplest,  the  most  beloved,  the 
most  ancient,  and  the  most  universal  specimens  are  those 
which  represent  Christ  as  the  Good  Shepherd,  with  direct 
reference  to  many  passages  of  Scripture,  and  especially 
to  the  discourse  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  St.  John,  and  the 
Parable  of  the  Lost  Sheep  recorded  by  St.  Luke.1 

1  John  x.  14  ;  Luke  xv.  Comp.  Isa.  xl.  11  ;  Jer.  xxxi.  10  ;  Ezek.  xxxiv. 
11;  Ps.  xxiii.  '•  Erroneamovempatentiapastorisrequiritet  invenit.  Nam 
impatientia  facile  unam  contemneret  ;  sed  laborem  inquisitionis  patientia 
suscepit,  et  humeris  insuper  advehit  bajulus  patiens  peccatricem  dere- 
lictam."  —  Tert.  De  patient.  12. 


38 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


This  is  the  favourite  and  most  touching  figure  in  the 
Catacombs.  It  seems  to  inspire  the  simple  Christian 
painters  with  delightful  skill.  The  best-loved  book  among 
the  early  Christians  —  a  book  so  popular  that  it  was  even 
read  as  Scripture  in  the  churches  —  is  the  Shepherd  of 
Hermas.  It  has  been  called  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  of  the 
second  century.  Clement  of  Alexandria  calls  Christ  "  the 
shepherd  of  royal,"  "  of  rational  sheep.''  St.  Abercius,  on 
his  tomb,  says :  — 

"  I,  Abercius,  am  a  disciple  of  the  Pure  Shepherd 
Who  feeds  His  flocks  and  sheep  on  the  mountains  and  the  plains, 
Who  has  great  eyes  that  look  on  all  sides." 

Even  in  the  days  of  Tertullian  this  emblem  was  commonly 
painted  on  glasses  and  vases,  and  it  has  been  found  not 
only  at  Rome  but  in  Africa  and  Gaul.  It  was,  says 
Martigny,  a  sort  of  Material  Homily,  presenting  to  the 
mind  of  the  Christian  the  blessings  of  the  Incarnation  and 
the  Saviour's  pity. 


From  the  tomb  of 
the  Nasones. 


Statue  of  the  Good  Shepherd. 
Lateran  Museum.    Fourth  century. 


The  type  had  this  further  advantage  for  the  poor  and 
little-instructed  artists,  that,  while  it  was  intensely  Chris- 


RESERVE   IX  PAINTING   CHRIST. 


39 


tian,  it  enabled  them  to  borrow  from  heathen  models.  If 
the  idea  was  taken  from  the  Gospels,  the  analogue  was 
found  in  Pagan  monuments.  To  the  eyes  of  a  Greek  or 
Roman  the  figure  of  the  Good  Shepherd  differed  but  little 
from  that  of  Apollo  Nomios 
or  Aristeus,  Apollo  feeding 
the  flocks  of  Admetus ;  or 
from  the  celebrated  statue 
of  Hermes  Kriophoros  (the 
ram-bearer)  at  Tanagra.1  It 
also  recalled  in  some  in- 
stances the  figure  of  Or- 
pheus. This  will  be  seen 
from  the  accompanying 
woodcuts.  But  how  dif- 
ferent was  the  meaning  of 

the    allegoric    figure    tO    the  Apollo  Aristeus.    Second  century. 

eye  of  the  Christian,  breath- 
ing as  it  did  the  idea  of  divine  and  unspeakable  compas- 
sion !     The  figure  was  usually  the  central  one  on  walls 

and  ceilings,  but  it  was 
never  heartily  adopted  in 
the  Eastern  Church,  and 
though  used  by  Constan- 
tine,  died  away  amid  the 
complications  and  artifici- 
alities of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury. 

Christ  was  to  the  early 
Christians      pre-eminently 
the     Good     Shepherd,     or 
rather  the  Fair  Shepherd. 
The  adjective  in  the  Gos- 
pels is  not  ayaObs,  "  good," 
but   /ra\o9,   "beautiful."     It  implies   that  Innocence  and 
Tenderness  were  translucent  through  human  beauty. 
1  See  Piper,  Myth.  u.  Symb.  d.  Christ.  Kunst.,  I.  77. 


Good  Shepherd  with  a  kid,  between  sheep 
and  goat,  and  two  olives. 


40 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


No  one  has  written  more  appreciatively  respecting  this 
symbol  than  Dean  Stanley.1  It  appealed  to  all  his  warm- 
est sympathies.  "  What,"  he  asks,  "  is  the  test  or  sign  of 


Early  Christian  gems. 

Christian  popular  belief,  which  in  these  earliest  represen- 
tations of  Christianity  is  handed  down  to  us  as  the  most 
cherished,  the  all-sufficing,  token  of  their  creed?  It  is 

very  simple,  but  it  con- 
tains a  great  deal.  It  is 
a  shepherd  in  the  bloom 
of  youth,  with  the  crook, 
or  a  shepherd's  pipe,  in 
one  hand,  and  on  his 
shoulder  a  lamb,  which 
he  carefully  carries,  and 
holds  with  the  other 
hand.2  We  see  at  once 
who  it  is ;  we  all  know 

without  being  told.  This,  in  that  earliest  chamber,  or 
church  of  a  Christian  family,3  is  the  only  sign  of  Christian 
life  and  Christian  belief.  But,  as  it  is  almost  the  only 
sign  of  Christian  belief  in  this  earliest  catacomb,  so  it 
continues  always  the  chief,  always  the  prevailing  sign,  as 

1  Christian  Institutions,  pp.  253  ff.  (abbreviated). 

2  Ferret  (Catacombes,  VI.  58)  thus  describes  the  beautiful  picture 
which  he  copies  in  his  plate  xxv. :  "  La  brfibis  egarfie  va  rentrer  au  bercail 
et  le  bon  Pasteur  la  retient  encore  sur  ses  epaules ;  il  semble  qu'il  ne 
puisse  se  decharger  de  ce  doux  fardeau." 

3  The  Catacomb  of  St.  Priscilla. 


RESERVE   IX   PAIXTIXG   CHRIST.  41 

long  as  those  burial-places  were  used."  After  alluding 
to  the  almost  total  neglect  of  this  lovely  symbol  by  the 
Fathers  and  Theologians,  he  says  that  it  answers  the 
question,  What  was  the  popular  religion  of  the  first 
Christians  ?  "  It  was,  in  one  word,  the  Religion  of  the 
Good  Shepherd.  The  kindness,  the  courage,  the  love, 
the  beauty,  the  grace,  of  the  Good  Shepherd,  was  to  them, 
if  we  may  so  say,  Prayer  Book  and  Articles,  Creed  and 
Canons,  all  in  one.  They  looked  on  that  Figure,  and  it 
conveyed  to  them  all  they  wanted.  As  ages  passed  on, 
the  Good  Shepherd  faded  from  the  mind  of  the  Christian 
world,  and  other  emblems  of  the  Christian  faith  have  taken 
His  place.  Instead  of  the  gracious  and  gentle  Pastor, 
there  came  the  Omnipotent  Judge,  or  the  Crucified  Suf- 
ferer, or  the  Infant  in  His  Mother's  arms,  or  the  Master  in 
His  Parting  Supper,  or  the  figures  of  innumerable  saints 
and  angels,  or  the  elaborate  expositions  of  the  various 
forms  of  theological  controversy."  But  "  the  Good  Shep- 
herd represents  to  us  the  joyful,  cheerful  side  of  Christi- 
anity of  which  we  spoke  before.  Look  at  that  beautiful, 
graceful  Figure,  bounding  down  as  if  from  His  native  hills, 
with  the  happy  sheep  nestling  on  His  shoulder,  with  the  pas- 
toral pipes  in  His  hand,  blooming  in  immortal  youth.  .  .  . 
That  is  the  primitive  conception  of  the  Founder  of  Chris- 
tianity in  those  earlier  centuries  when  the  first  object  of 
the  Christian  community  was  not  to  repel,  but  to  include ; 
not  to  condemn,  but  to  save.  The  popular  conception  of 
Christ  in  the  early  Church  was  of  the  strong,  the  joyous 
youth,  of  eternal  growth,  of  immortal  grace." 

We  willingly  linger  over  this  loving  symbol,  and  will 
rapidly  mention  some  of  the  slight  variations  with  which 
it  is  presented. 

The  Good  Shepherd  is  constantly  surrounded  by  the 
Seasons.  The  Seasons  were  a  Pagan  symbol  into  which 
the  Christians  infused  the  thought  of  the  Resurrection. 
"This  whole  rolling  order  of  things,"  says  Tertullian,1 

1  De  Resurrect.  XII.     The  Pagan  four  seasons  are  found  on  the  tomb 


42 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


"  bears  witness  to  the  Resurrection  of  the  dead."     Spring 
as    a   boy   gathers   roses ;     Summer   presents    her   fruits ; 


Good  Shepherd  and  the  Seasons.    From  Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus. 

Autumn  reaps  the  ripened  ears ;  Winter  as  an  old  man 
burns  the  leaves.  The  Good  Shepherd  cares  for  His  sheep 
all  the  year  round. 


From  Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus. 

He  is  often  surrounded  by  vines  with  their  purple  clus- 
ters which  child-genii  pluck,  as  in  the  accompanying  design 
which  Agincourt  refers  to  the  second  century.  The  allu- 

of  the  Nasones.     For  the  following  paragraphs,  see  Martigny,  s.v.  Bon 
Pasteur ;  Didron,  Icon.,  pp.  344-348. 


RESERVE  IN  PAINTING   CHRIST. 


43 


Good  Shepherd,  with  mulctra  and  pedum. 
Cemetery  of  Lucina. 


sion  is  to  John  xv.  5,  and  illustrates  the  joyously  exultant 
spirit  of  early  Christianity. 

Sometimes  the  Shepherd  stands  in  the  attitude  of  an 
Orante  between  a  sheep 
and  a  goat,  who  listen  to 
Him  with  bowed  heads. 
He  is  almost  invariably 
boyish  and  beardless,  to 
indicate  an  immortality  of 
eternal  youth.  His  hair  is 
short,  His  eye  full  of  ten- 
derness. He  is  clad  in  a 
short  tunic  girded  round 
His  loins,  and  sometimes 
also  under  His  arms,  some- 
times adorned  with  gam- 
madias  (as  in  the  Catacomb 
at  Naples)1  and  with  flower-shaped  ornaments  (calliculce)? 

or  with  bands  of  pur- 
ple. Over  this  tunic 
He  sometimes  wears 
a  mantle  (sagum) 
or  a  coat  of  skin 
(jBcorted).  His  head 
is  almost  invariably 
uncovered.  In  His 
left  hand  He  carries 
His  shepherd's  crook 
{pedum)  to  guide  or 
to  recover ;  and  in 
His  right  hand  the 
milk-pail  (mulctra), 
the  type,  as  in  the 
Vision  of  St.  Per- 
petua,  of  Holy  Corn- 


Good  Shepherd,  with  syrinx,  sheep,  and  goats. 
Catacomb  of  SS.  Peter  and  Marcellinus. 


1  See  Schulze,  Die  Katak.  von  San  Gennaro,  Jena,  1877. 

2  Bottari,  tav.  Ixxvi.     Greek 


44  THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

munion.  He  generally  holds,  or  has  near  at  hand,  the 
syrinx,  or  pastoral  flute,  with  which  He  plays  to  His  flock. 
Sometimes  He  has  His  hand  on  His  cheek  in  a  gesture  of 
sorrow  as  He  sets  forth  to  recover  His  lost  and  wandering 
sheep. 

Sometimes  He  holds  by  a  cord  the  watch-dog  who  is  to 
aid  Him  in  the  search. 

Sometimes  He  sits  down  in  weariness,  —  "quaerens  me 
sedisti  lassus,"  —  while  His  dog  looks  up  at  Him  with 
sympathy. 

But  most  often  He  is  carrying  the  recovered  sheep  upon 
His  shoulders,  and  standing  between  two  olive-trees,  types 
of  peace  and  fruitfulness  and  joy.  Generally  He  holds  the 
recovered  sheep  by  its  four  legs,  with  one,  or  with  both 
hands,  as  though  He  still  f ears  that  it  may  escape ;  but 
sometimes  it  simply  nestles  affectionately  on  His  shoulder, 
happy  to  be  safe,  and  not  dreaming  of  further  wanderings 
in  the  desert. 

Sometimes  He  is  drawing  near  the  Shepherd's  hut  and 
fold  (tuguriuni),  where  the  unwandered  sheep  await  Him 
with  solicitude. 

Sometimes  a  number  of  the  flock — or  at  least  two,  as 
representatives  —  draw  near,  and  caress  Him  to  express 
their  joy  at  the  recovery  of  their  lost  brother. 

If  these  varieties  are  mainly  drawn  from  Luke  xv.  1-7, 
there  are  others  which  refer  more  directly  to  John  x.  1-18, 
and  their  antiquity  shews  how  early  the  Gospel  was  known 
throughout  the  Church. 

Sometimes  He  seems  to  call  His  sheep  by  name,  and 
He  conducts  them  —  or  all  that  will  listen,  for  some  are 
grazing,  and  do  not  attend  to  his  call  —  to  green  pastures 
and  still  waters. 

Sometimes  in  an  attitude  of  peace  He  gazes  at  them  as 
they  feed  around  Him ;  or  He  charms  them  with  the  notes 
of  His  pipe  of  reeds. 

Sometimes  He  is  blessing  and  fondling  them  as  they 
climb  the  slopes  of  a  steep  hill. 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING  CHRIST.  45 

On  a  sarcophagus,  in  the  Lateran,  the  sheep  are  feeding 
on  the  round  bread-cakes  called  in  Italy  ciambelle.1  These 
are  an  allusion  to  the  Eucharist  as  the  "  bread  of  life " ; 
and  to  shew  their  connexion  with  the  Tree  of  Life,  one  is 
placed  on  the  top  of  a  palm-tree  at  the  side.  In  the 
Cathedral  at  Ravenna  Christ  is  seated  between  two  dis- 
ciples, who  present  to  Him  two  of  these  breads  on  a 
corporal,  and  beyond  are  two  palm-trees.2 

From  the  earliest  days  it  has  been  noticed  as  an  inter- 
esting circumstance  that  the  Fair  Shepherd  often  carries  a 
kid  on  His  shoulders,  and  not  a  lamb.3  Lord  Lindsay  sees 
in  this  circumstance  an  allusion  to  the  scapegoat,4  but  this 
seems  to  me  wholly  improbable,  nor  is  it  supported  by  a 
single  ancient  allusion.  There  is  much  to  be  said  for  the 
interpretation  adopted  by  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  in  his  ex- 
quisite sonnet  —  which  regards  the  kid  as  indicating  the 
large  divine  compassion,  against  which  Tertullian  so  fiercely 
protested.5 

" '  He  saves  the  sheep,  the  goats  he  doth  not  save.' 
So  spake  the  fierce  Tertullian  ;  but  she  sigh'd  — 
The  infant  Church !     Of  love  she  felt  the  tide 
Stream  on  her  from  her  Lord's  yet  recent  grave. 
And  then  she  smiled ;  and  in  the  catacombs, 
On  those  walls  subterranean,  where  she  hid 
Her  head  'mid  ignominy,  death,  and  tombs, 

1  Panes  rotulares,  coronae,  ablates. 

2  See  Barlow,  Symbolism,  p.  77. 

3  See  the  picture  in  Aringhi,  II.  33.    On  the  vault  of  a  chapel  in  the 
Catacomb  of  SS.  Peter  and  Marcellinus,  there  are  at  the  corners  four 
bounding  kids  (Ferret,  I.  6G,  V.  PI.  Ixi.).  The  specimen  on  p.  39  is  from 
the  Catacomb  of  SS.  Thrason  and  Saturninus.     Comp.  Bottari,  taw. 
Ixxviii.,  clxxix.     The  latter,  from  the  cemetery  of  St.  Priscilla,  is  perhaps 
the  earliest  existing. 

4  The  scapegoat  is  rare,  till  a  late  period,  among  Christian  symbols. 
It  is  found  on  a  glass  (Buonarotti,  Vetri  antichi,  tav.  ii. ;  Ferret,  IV.  PI. 
xxviii.). 

5  Tert.  De  Pudicit.  10.    "  Suis  non  etbnicis  sinum  subjecit."     Fiercely 
objecting  to  The  Shepherd  of  Hermas,  which  he  calls  "the  writing  of  a 
shepherd  who  only  loves  adulterers,"  he  alludes  to  the  Good  Shepherd 
painted  at  the  bottom  of  chalices.     See  Diet,  of  Christ.  Antiq.  I.  732. 


46 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


With  eye  suffused,  but  heart  inspired  true, 
She  her  Good  Shepherd's  hasty  image  drew, 
And  on  his  shoulders  not  a  lamb,  a  kid."  l 

The  one  thought  of  Christians,  as  they  gazed  on  this 
glorious  figure,  would  be  "  Erravi  sic  nt  ovis  perdita : 
quaere  servum  tuum,  quoniam  mandata  tua  non  sum 
oblitus."  2 

The  lamb,  as  St.  Hilary  says,3  though  single,  signifies 
humanity  in  general.  Sometimes,  in  these  pictures,  the 


From  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus. 

sheep  look  up  on  either  side  at  the  Good  Shepherd ;  some- 
times they  seem  indifferent  to  His  voice.     Sometimes,  as 

1  "  II  arrive  meme  que  1'agneau  soit  remplac6  par  un  bouc  que  le  Bon 
Pasteur  porte  ou  caresse,  formel  dementi  inflige  par  les  peintres  a  la 
rigueur  des  heretiques  montanistes  et  novatiens,  qui  refusaient  d'admettre 
tous  les  pecheurs  a  la  penitence."  —  Perate,  Arch.  Chret.  87.     See,  too, 
Aririghi,  Roma  Sotterranea,  II.  292,  §  9,  who  quotes  the  excellent  remarks 
of  Theodoret  on  Canticles  (cap.  i.)  and  of  Gregory  of  Xyssa   (Horn.  2, 
in  Cant.  ii.).     In  the  spandrils  of  the  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus,  the 
Lamb  (as  Christ)  will  be  seen  striking  the  Rock,  baptizing,  raising  Laza- 
rus with  a  wand,  etc. 

2  Ps.  cxix.  176.  s  In  Matt,  xviii.  12. 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTING   CHRIST. 


47 


in  the  catacomb  of  St.  Domitilla,  we  have  a  bounding 
lamb,  with  the  pastoral  staff  and  milk-pail,  —  an  emblem 
of  divine  nurture,  —  which  the 
Good  Shepherd  frequently  carries 
in  His  hand.  The  crowned  vic- 
torious lamb  on  Mount  Zion  is  a 
favourite  symbol  of  the  fifth  cen- 
tury mosaics,  and  appears  on  the 
sarcophagus  of  Galla  Placidia  at 
Ravenna  (A.D.,  451)  and  on  a  gilt 
glass  here  reproduced.  The  lamb 

recalled  some 

of  the  most  re- 
markable pas- 
sages in  both 
Testaments.1 
This  symbolic 

figure  continued  so  popular  as  almost 
to  supersede  any  other  representation 
of  Christ.  Didron  thinks  that  this 
was  the  reason  why  it  was  prohibited  by  the  Quinisext 
Council  under  Jus- 
tinian II.,  in  692. 
But  even  this  pro- 
hibition did  not  pre- 
vent the  repetition 
of  the  lamb,  al- 
though it  rendered 
actual  pictures  of 
Christ  more  com- 
mon. 

Before  leaving 
this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject we  may  call  at- 

1  From  a  glass  cup. 

tention  to  the  wood- 
cuts on  p.  48,  which  represent  combinations  of  the  rich 

1  Gen.  iv.  4 ;  xxii.  8 ;  xvi.  1 ;  1  Pet.  i.  19,  etc. 


Tomb  of  Galla  Placidia. 


48 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


series  of  elementary  symbols  which  form  the  alphabet  of 
Christianity,  "the  mystic  phrase  of  which  each  sign  is  a 
word."  The  first  is  from  a  gem  of  the  second  century, 
in  the  Kircher  Museum,  and  combines  the  Fair  Shepherd, 
lamb,  dove,  green  leaf,  Tau  cross,  anchor,  and  fishes,  with 
the  word  IX0YC.  The  other  is  on  a  fourth  century  sar- 
cophagus at  Velletri,  and 
combines  the  Fair  Shep- 
herd, Daniel,  an  Orante, 
Adam  and  Eve,  Noah,  Jo- 
nah, the  multiplication  of 
the  loaves,  and  again  the 
Fair  Shepherd  among  the 
sheep  and  goats. 

One  of  the  modern  in- 
stances of  the  lamb  sym- 
bolically used  to  indicate 
Christ  as  the  Redeemer  of  the  World,  is  in  the  magnificent 
altar  piece  of  San  Bavo,  in  Ghent,  by  the  brothers  Van 
Eyck  (1432)  .J  In  the  centre  of  a  lovely  and  blooming 


Second  century  gem. 


Fourth  century  sarcophagus  at  Velletri. 

landscape  is  an  altar  on  which  stands  the  victim  Lamb. 
From  its  pierced  side  the  blood  of  the  new  Covenant  is 
flowing  into  a  chalice.  On  either  side  are  angels,  who 

1  The  picture  is  reproduced  in  Dohme's  Series,  Die  Br'uder  Van  Eyck, 
p.  5,  and  in  Woltmann,  II.  4,  and  fully  described  in  Schnaas,  Gesch.  d. 
Sild.  Kiinste,  VIII.  120-132. 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTING  CHRIST.  49 

carry  the  cross,  the  pillar,  the  spear,  the  sponge,  and  hyssop- 
stalk.  The  altar  is  encircled  by  a  choir  of  singing  angels, 
and  two  of  them,  kneeling  in  front  of  it,  swing  their 
thuribles  of  incense.  Nearer  the  spectator  is  a  streaming 
fountain  of  the  water  of  life,  on  either  side  of  which  kneel 
multitudes  of  the  redeemed.  On  the  right  are  popes, 
bishops,  priests,  and  monks,  over  whom,  closer  to  the  altar, 
are  a  throng  of  virgins  and  martyrs,  with  their  victorious 
palms :  — 

"  Nearest  the  domes  and  tourelles,  where  sapphire  is  mingled  with 

jasper, 
Gather  in  one,  truer  lilies  themselves  in  the  rnidst  of  the  lilies." 

On  the  left  are  princes,  nobles,  and  burghers,  and  over 
them  cardinals  and  bishops  who  have  been  martyrs  and 
confessors.  In  the  distance  is  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and 
over  the  altar  is  the  Holy  Dove,  from  which  stream  rays 
of  light  on  every  side.  This  glorious  picture,  one  of  the 
great  pictures  of  the  world,  shews  what  the  Van  Eycks 
could  accomplish  with  their  motto,  Ah  ich  kann. 


(w.)   CHRIST  REPRESENTED  IN  SCENERY  FROM  THE 
GOSPELS. 

"  And  so  the  Word  had  life  ;  and  wrought 

With  human  hands  the  creed  of  creeds, 
In  loveliness  of  perfect  deeds  ; 
More  strong  than  all  poetic  thought." 

—  TENNYSON. 

Another  and  a  considerable  step  was  taken  towards 
depicting  the  Christ,  when  He  began  to  be  represented 
directly  as  Jesus,  though  under  a  purely  ideal  aspect,  in 
scenes  from  the  Gospels.1 

In  this  way  various  events  recorded  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment were  shadowed  forth,  of  which  the  commonest  was 
the  resurrection  of  Lazarus.  They  are  in  no  sense  pict- 
ures, but  conventional  reminiscences  ;  and  they  only  begin 

1  See  Garrucci,  Bk.  vi.,  Tipi  del  Nuovo  Testamento. 

E 


50 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


to  appear  after  the  triumph  of  the  Church,  when  the 
purely  symbolic  epoch  of  Catacomb  decoration  began  to 
be  superseded.  In  all  the  representations  of  Lazarus,  he 
stands  at  the  door  of  his  tomb,  swathed  in  bands  like  an 


Egyptian  mummy,  and  Christ  is  touching  him  with  a 
wand,  the  emblem  of  life-giving  power.  The  sketches  are 
never  intended  to  depict,  but  only  to  recall.  The  merest 
scrawl  became  sufficient  for  this  purpose  in  later  days,  as 
in  the  accompanying  woodcuts.  Many  others  are  equally 


From  cemetery  of  St.  Priscilla. 


rude,  and  are  not  intended  for  pictures  at  all,  any  more 
than  those  of  Moses  striking  the  rock,  or  of  the  Good 
Shepherd.  Mabillon  was  once  walking  with  Ferretti  in 
the  Catacombs,  and  beside  one  of  the  graves  they  found  an 
Egyptian  idol.  Ferretti  thought  that  it  was  a  sign  of 
idolatry,  but  Mabillon  saw  that  its  close  resemblance  to 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTING  CHRIST. 


51 


the  swathed  mummy  of  Lazarus  was  sufficient  to  consti- 
tute it  a  type  of  the  Resurrection.1 


Sometimes,  again,  Jesus  is  painted  between  two  disciples, 
or  performing  miracles  of  healing.  But  in  all  these  pict- 
ures, when  they  belong  to  early  centuries,  He  is  depicted 
as  majestic,  triumphant,  beardless,  beautiful,  youthful, 


almost  boyish.2  There  is  no  attempt  at  portraiture,  or 
even  at  verisimilitude.  The  figures  are  intended  to  shadow 
forth  a  radiant  immortality  which  could  never  wax  old 

1  Maitland,  Ch.  of  the  Catacombs,  180;  Mabillon,  Mus.  Ital.  I.  137. 

2  The  accompanying  woodcuts  from  various  cemeteries  represent  types 
of  the  boyish  Christ  at  the  well  of  Samaria,  teaching  the  law,  teaching 
His  disciples,  crowned  with  thorns,  and  seated  in  glory. 


52 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


or  decay.      During  the  first  four  hundred  years  there  is 
probably  no  representation  of  Christ  as  bearded,  or  as  a 


worn  and  weary  sufferer.1     The  exclusion  of  all  conno- 
tations  of  suffering  was  due  to  that  holy  self-restraint 

which    marks    the    Art 

of   the   early   Christian 
centuries. 


1  "La  figure  de  Christ  jeune  d'abord,  viellit  de  siecle  en  siecle,  a 
mesure  que  le  christianisme  gagne  lui-meme  en  age."  —  Didron,  Icon. 
Chret.,  p.  354. 


RESERVE   IX   PAINTIXG   CHRIST.  53 

I  shall  not  here  touch  on  the  modern  stages  of  Art,  to 
which  I  shall  allude  in  later  pages ;  but  I  may  notice  in 
passing,  that  no  picture  of  Christ  which  can  be  regarded  as 
purely  naturalistic,  is  to  be  found  before  the  Renaissance ; 
and  that  the  seventh  and  last  stage  —  that  of  rude  realism 
—  does  not  occur  till  the  sixteenth  century,  increasing  in 
degradation  down  to  some  bad  instances  in  modern  days. 


II. 


RESERVE   IN  PAINTING  CHRIST  WAS   INSISTED  ON  BY 
THE   FATHERS. 


/LIT;    ypd(f>e    rbv    Xpiffrbv.       dpicet    y&p    aiirif    ij    fita    TT)J 
i.  —  ASTERIUS,  Horn.  i.  de  Div.  et  Lazaro. 


IT  has  sometimes  been  supposed  that  the  early  Christian 
dislike  to  the  human  presentation  of  Christ,  except  sym- 
bolically, allusively,  and  ideally,  was  due  only  to  the  super- 
stitions of  the  poor  and  uneducated.  How  groundless  is 
such  a  notion  may  be  seen  from  the  following  evidence. 
It  is  matter  of  absolute  demonstration  that  the  same  dislike 
to  the  seeming  irreverence  of  painting  an  Eternal  Being 
existed  as  strongly,  or  even  more  strongly,  among  the 
learned,  than  among  the  poor. 

Many  of  the  early  Christians  (as  we  have  said)  looked 
with  suspicion  on  all  Art.1  They  had  inherited  the  pre- 
possessions of  the  Jews,  to  whom  it  had  been  forbidden,  and 
they  were  surrounded  with  Pagan  Art  which  was  stained 
through  and  through  with  the  worst  pollutions.  Tertullian 
does  not  indeed  prohibit  art  altogether,  but  he  writes  very 
bitterly  against  Hermogenes,  a  Christian  painter,  whom  he 
accuses  of  still  working  for  Pagan  patrons,  and  he  does  not 
view  with  much  favour  the  painting  of  sacred  figures  on 
vessels  of  glass.2  Clement  of  Alexandria,  actuated,  no 

1  Justin  Martyr  (Dial.  c.  Tryph.,  p.  321)  appeals  to  the  second  com- 
mandment. 

2  De  Pudicitia,  7,  10.      "Pastor  quern  in  calice  depingis."     In  the 
Apostolical  Constitutions  we  read   (viii.  32)  :  et3w\ojroi<bs  irpoa-iuv  q  irav- 

T)  dro/SaXX&rtfw. 

54 


RESERVE   IN   PAINTIXG   CHRIST.  55 

doubt,  by  a  similar  dread  of  Pagan  influences,  is  careful 
to  guard  against  the  promiscuous  use  of  current  symbols. 
He  passionately  inveighs  against  the  corruption  of  heathen 
pictures,  and  expresses  himself  adversely  to  artistic  studies.1 
The  large  mind  of  Origen  might  have  seemed  likely  to  make 
him  sympathize  with  Art  as  one  beautiful  means  for  the 
fuller  expression  of  human  faculties ;  but  it  is  clear  from 
his  voluminous  pages  that  the  conditions  of  Pagan  Art  by 
which  he  was  confronted  were  so  dubious  and  degraded  as 
to  quench  most  of  the  sympathy  which  he  might  naturally 
have  felt.2  He  who  compares  the  frescoes  of  Pagan  houses 
with  those  of  the  Catacombs  will  best  feel  the  sweetness 
of  the  vernal  air  which,  in  the  first  centuries,  was  beginning 
to  breathe  through  the  world,  and  to  clear  away  the  choking 
fogs  of  materialism  and  lust. 

Since  Christians  saw  idols  on  all  sides  of  them,  and 
since  those  idols  were  often  surrounded  with  seductive- 
ness, and  sometimes  displayed  with  unblushing  cynicism 
the  fury  of  perverted  appetites,  they  would  naturally 
shrink  with  something  like  abhorrence  from  anything 
which  might  be  confused  with  a  material  object  of  wor- 
ship. Since  they  were  taunted  with  being  atheists,  be- 
cause they  had  neither  temples  nor  altars,3  it  would  have 
been  strange,  indeed,  if  they  possessed  pictures  or  images 
which  could  have  been  regarded  as  idolatrous.  We  have 
abundant  evidence  that  not  only  the  slaves  and  artisans 
of  the  Catacombs,  but  even  the  most  erudite  and  thought- 
ful fathers,  regarded  any  attempt  to  depict  —  as  distinct 
from  symbolically  shadowing  forth  —  the  human  Christ, 
as  a  profane  and  dangerous  innovation.  When  Celsus 
aimed  at  Christians  the  covert  taunt  that  they  had  pro- 

1  Protrepticon,  I.  §  62.     He  calls  art  deceitful  (dira.Ti)\&s},  and  speaks 
of  the   common   dvaurxwrla  even  of  their  house  decorations.      Comp. 
§§  42-59. 

2  Bishop  Westcott  refers  to  c.   Gels.  VIII.  17,  De  Orat.  17,  as  proof 
that  "  no  religious  use  was  as  yet  publicly  made  of  imitative  art." 

3  Min.  Felix  Octav.  32.     "  Delubra  et  aras  non  habemus." 


56  THE  LIFE   OF  CHRIST  IN  ART. 

duced  no  supreme  artist  like  Phidias,  Origen  replied  that 
Man  is  the  best  image  (a^a\^a)  of  God. 

As  a  proof  of  the  fixity  of  this  feeling  for  four  and 
a  half  centuries  I  may  mention  the  following  facts  : J  — 

i.  "The  Council  of  Eliberis,"  says  Bishop  Jeremy 
Taylor,  "is  very  ancient  and  of  great  fame,  in  which  it 
is  expressly  forbidden  that  what  is  worshipped  should  be 
depicted  on  the  walls,  and  that,  therefore,  pictures  ought 
not  to  be  in  churches."  2 

ii.  In  A.D.  326  the  Empress  Constantia,  sister  of  Con- 
stantine,  wrote  to  Eusebius  of  Cseserea  to  ask  if  he  would 
send  her  a  likeness  (etVcbi/)  of  Christ.  The  answer  of  the 
great  historian  was  almost  indignant.  It  was  as  follows : 
"  And  since  you  have  written  about  some  supposed  like- 
ness or  other  of  Christ  (&><?  Brj  TOV  Xpto-roO),  what  and 
what  kind  of  likeness  of  Christ  is  there  ?  Do  you  mean 
the  true,  unchangeable  likeness  which  bears  His  impress ; 
or  that  which  for  our  sakes  He  took  up  when  He  put 
around  Him  the  fashion  of  the  form  of  a  slave?  Such 
images  are  forbidden  by  the  second  commandment.  They 
are  not  to  be  found  in  churches,  and  are  forbidden  among 
Christians  alone." 

After  telling  the  Empress  that  he  had  seen  a  woman  car- 
rying about  what  pretended  to  be  pictures  of  Christ  and 
of  St.  Paul,  he  says  that  he  bought  them  from  her  for  fear 
of  the  scandal  they  might  cause  to  outsiders  (erepou?),  if 
the  heathen  supposed  that  they  took  about  with  them  the 

1  The  following  passages  have  been  referred  to  by  many  writers,  such 
as  Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor,  Bishop  Miinter,  Jablonsky,  Martigny,  Kraus, 
R.  St.  J.  Tyrrwhitt,  etc. ,  and  lately  by  Bishop  Westcott  in  his  beautiful 
essay  on  The  Relation  of  Christianity  to  Art  (Religious  Thought  of  the 
West,  pp.  277-341).     I  must  once  more  refer  to  them,  because  they  are 
essential  to  my  subject,  but  I  have  taken  them  from  the  original  sources 
in  the  Councils  and  Fathers. 

2  This  Council  met  at  Elvira  in  Granada,  at  some  date  between  A.D.  310 
and  324.      The  venerable  Hosius  of   Cordova  is  named  second  of  the 
nineteen  bishops  who  attended  it.     It  passed  eighty-one  canons,  of  which 
the  thirty-sixth  was  Placuit  picturas  in  ecclesia  esse  non  debere,  ne  quod 
colitur  et  adoratur  in  parietibus  depingatur. 


RESERVE  IX   PAIXTIXG   CHRIST.  57 

pictures  of  Him  whom  they  adore.  He  entirely,  there- 
fore, and  with  anxiety,  dissuades  the  Empress  from  desiring 
to  possess  anything  of  the  kind.  He  urges  all  to  prepare 
to  see  God  by  purifying  their  hearts.  "  And  if,"  he  says, 
"of  superfluity"  (e'/c  Tre/otouo-ta?,  i.e.  in  addition),  "before 
the  A'ision  face  to  face  which  shall  be,  you  attach  great 
value  to  images  of  our  Saviour,  what  better  painter  could 
we  have  than  the  Word  of  God  Himself?"1 

iii.  In  A.D.  340  Asterius,  Bishop  of  Amasaea,  expresses 
very  similar  sentiments.  It  was  the  custom  of  wealthy 
Pagan  ladies  to  wear  gauzy  robes  inwoven  in  gold  thread 
with  scenes  of  Pagan  mythology.  In  the  demoralizing 
contact  of  the  Church  with  the  world,  the  Christian  ladies 
copied  their  example,  but  as  they  could  not  wear  robes 
adorned  with  heathen  legends,  they  substituted  for  them 
scenes  taken  from  the  Gospel  histoiy.  To  whom  the  holy 
Bishop  says  that  they  read  the  Gospel  history,  and  picked 
out  such  scenes  as  the  miracle  of  Cana,  the  paralytic 
carrying  his  bed,  the  healing  of  the  blind,  and  of  the 
woman  with  the  issue,  and  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus, 
and  gave  them  over  to  the  weavers.2  "  And  in  acting  thus 
they  think  that  they  shew  piety,  and  clothe  themselves  in 
garments  acceptable  to  God.  If  they  accept  my  advice, 
they  will  sell  them,  and  pay  honour  to  the  living  images 
of  Christ.  Paint  not  Christ ;  for  the  one  humility  of  His 
Incarnation  suffices  Him,  which  for  our  sakes  He  volun- 
tarily accepted.  But  carry  about  with  you  upon  your  soul 
in  thought  the  bodiless  Word.  Do  not  have  the  paralytic 
on  your  garments,  but  seek  out  him  who  lies  in  helpless 
sickness  "  :  — and  so  forth,  in  a  similar  strain.3 

iv.   Epiphanius,  Bishop  of  Salamis,  who  died  A.D.  402, 

1  This  letter  is  not  found  among  the  writings  of  Eusebius,  but  is  quoted 
in  the  Acts  of  the  Second  Council  of  Nice  (A.D.  787)  from  the  Acts  of 
the  Second  Council  of  Constantinople,  A.D.  756.     It  is  given  in  Migne, 
Patrol.  Grcec.  XX.  1546. 

2  It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  the  scenes  are  identical  with  those 
which  recur  most  often  in  the  Catacombs. 

3  Asterius,  Horn.  I.  De  Div.  et  Laz. ;  Migne,  Patrologia  Grcec.  XI.  167. 


58  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

shewed  a  yet  more  energetic  abhorrence  of  anything  re- 
sembling a  sacred  picture.  He  was  regarded  as  the  saint- 
liest  and  most  orthodox  prelate  of  his  age,  and  this  story 
is  recorded  by  himself  in  his  letter  to  John,  Bishop  of 
Jerusalem.  It  appears  that,  being  at  Anablatha,  near 
Bethel  in  Palestine,  over  which,  of  course,  he  had  no  epis- 
copal jurisdiction,  he  saw  a  lamp  burning,  and  being 
informed  that  the  building  was  a  church,  he  entered  it  to 
pray.  He  saw  there  a  curtain,  dyed  and  embroidered, 
which  had  on  it  "  an  image,  as  it  were,  of  Christ,  or  of 
some  saint,  for  I  cannot  quite  remember  whose  likeness 
it  was.  Horrified  to  see  the  likeness  of  a  man,  hanging, 
contrary  to  Scripture,  in  a  Christian  church,  I  tore  it 
down,  and  ordered  the  vergers  to  use  it  as  the  shroud  of 
some  pauper.  They  murmured  at  me,  and  said  that  if  I 
chose  to  tear  it  down,  I  ought  at  least  to  give  another  in 
exchange  for  it.  I  promised  that  I  would  do  so,  and 
would  send  it  at  once.  But  a  little  delay  occurred  while 
I  was  looking  out  for  the  best  curtain  I  could  find,  for  I 
thought  that  I  ought  to  send  one  from  Cyprus  "  (his  own 
diocese).  "Now  I  have  sent  the  best  I  could  discover,  I 
beg  you  to  order  the  presbyter  of  the  church  to  accept  it 
from  the  bearer,  who  is  a  Reader,  and  to  instruct  him  that 
such  curtains,  which  are  contrary  to  our  religion,  ought 
not  to  be  hung  up  in  the  church  of  Christ.  For  it  touches 
your  honour  to  be  rather  solicitous  to  remove  a  source  of 
offence  which  is  unworthy  of  the  church  of  Christ." 1 

v.  The  one  man  who  did  more  than  any  one  else  to 
break  down  the  instinctive  and  reverent  dislike  of  Chris- 
tians for  sacred  pictures  in  churches  was  Paulinus,  Bishop 
of  Nola,  who  died  A.D.  431.  He  devoted  himself  to  the 
almost  extravagant  cult  of  St.  Felix  of  Nola,  before  whose 
shrine  (among  other  innovations)  lamps  were  suspended, 
and  candles  kept  continually  burning.  He  decorated,  with 
scenes  from  the  Old  Testament,  the  cloister  of  the  splendid 

1  Epiphan.  Ep.  ad  Joann.  Hierosol.  (translated  by  Jerome,  and  printed 
in  Vallarsi's  edition  of  his  works). 


RESERVE   IN    PAIXTIXG   CHRIST.  59 

church  which  he  erected  in  honour  of  his  patron,  and  in 
this  manner  he  attempted — by  means  which  he  seems  to 
think  required  some  apology,  and  which,  on  his  own  shew- 
ing, were  not  very  successful  —  to  teach  the  rude  multitudes 
who  flocked  to  the  festival  of  the  saint.  But  even  this 
bold  innovator  shrank  from  painting  Christ,  except  sym- 
bolically. "  The  works  of  our  hands,"  he  sings,  "  contain 
Thee  not,  O  greatest  Creator,  whom  the  world,  with  its 
whole  substance,  contains  not." l  His  only  attempt  to 
represent  Christ  is  thus  described  :  — 

"  Amid  the  celestial  grove  of  the  resplendent  Paradise 
Christ,-  in  (the  symbol  of)  a  snowy  lamb,  stands  under  the  blood- 
stained cross, 
A  lamb,  given  an  innocent  victim  to  unjust  death."  2 

The  example  of  Paulinus  led  to  further  developments. 
St.  Augustine  complains  that  he  knew  many  worshippers 
of  superstitious  pictures ;  and  when  Serenus,  Bishop  of 
Massilia,  broke  up  pictures  and  images  in  churches,  St. 
Gregory  the  Great  disapproves  of  his  breaking  them, 
though  he  commends  his  opposition  to  their  idolatrous 
abuse.3 

In  point  of  fact,  the  use  of  pictures  or  other  representa- 

1  De  S.  Felice,  IX.,  XXV.  541-594 ;  Ep.  XXXII.  17. 

2  The  reason  offered  by  Paulinus  for  his  novelties  was  the  one  ordi- 
narily adduced.    It  was  Picturae  sunt  laicorum  libri ;  pictures  were  ex- 
cused and  encouraged  on  the  plea  that  they  tended  to  the  edification  of 
the  ignorant.     This  was  repeated  by  Pope  Gregory  II.  in  his  letter  to  Leo 
the  Isaurian.     In  the  sixteenth  century,  when  a  cure  of  St.  Nizier  in 
Troyes  introduced  painted  glass  windows  representing  the  scenes  of  the 
Gospels,  he  wrote  at  the  base  of  the  west  window,  "To  the  holy  multitude 
of  God,"  just  as  Pope  Sixtus  III.  had  done  at  Sta.  Maria  Maggiore,  in  433. 
On  this  plea,  Benedict  Biscop,  Abbot  of  Wearmouth,  introduced  pictures 
from  Italy  into  an  English  church  about  A.D.  680,  and  John  Damascenes 
defended  them  in  the  eighth  century.     For  these  and  other  instances,  see 
Didron,  Icon.   Chret.,  pp.  4-10.     "The  ignorant,"  wrote  Don  Juan  de 
Buloz,  "may  read  their  duty  in  a  picture,  though  they  cannot  search  for 
it  in  books." 

3  Aug.  De  morib.  Eccl.  I.  34 ;   De  Fide  et  Symb.  VII. ;   c.  Adimant. 
XIII.  ;  Jeremy  Taylor,  I.e. 


60  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 

tions  of  Christ  invaded  the  Church  from  a  very  tainted 
source.  Simon  Magus  is  charged  with  having  been  the 
first  to  introduce  images.1  Irenseus  tells  us  that  images 
of  Christ  were  unheard  of,  till  the  Gnostics  —  especially 
the  corrupt  Carpocracians  —  pretended  that  such  an  one 
had  been  made  by  Pilate.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  Ori- 
gen,  and  Lactantius  sternly  condemn  their  use.  The  two 
former  distinctly  appeal  to  the  second  commandment  in 
language  which  reminds  us  of  the  Book  of  Wisdom.2 

1  Theodoret,  Hcer.  I. 

2  Iren.  I.  24 ;  Epiphan.  Hcer.  I.  27 ;  Aug.  De  hcer.  ;  Clem.  Strom.  VII. 
18  j  Protrept.  §  3 ;  Origen,  c.  Gels.  IV.,  VII.  §  66. 


III. 

SEASONS  FOR  THE  RESERVE. 

2  Cor.  V.  16  :  el  Kal  £yv<t>Kafj£v  Kara,  capita    'Kpurrbv,    dXXd   vvv  OVK  ert 


BEFORE  we  proceed  to  trace  the  final  breaking  down  of 
this  ancient  reserve  in  Christian  Art,  and  the  substitution 
of  pictures  of  Christ  for  symbols,  types,  and  conventional 
ideals  of  Him,  it  is  important  and  interesting  to  consider 
the  reasons  for  a  feeling  so  deeply  rooted  and  so  long- 
continued. 

i.  The  first  reason  was  the  reverent  awe  and  intense 
spirituality  of  the  first  ages. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  Christians  of  the  Cata- 
combs could  not  represent  Christ  even  in  His  human  mani- 
festation without  a  painful  sense  that  to  do  so  was  to 
violate  the  second  commandment,  by  the  spirit  of  which, 
if  not  by  the  letter,  they  held  themselves  to  be  strictly 
bound. 

ii.  A  second  reason  was  their  habitual  manner  of  re- 
garding their  Lord  and  Master,  not  as  the  afflicted  man, 
not  as  the  human  sufferer,  but  as  the  Glorified,  the  Risen, 
the  Ascended  Christ,  Who  had  forever  sat  doAvn  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  High.  The  common,  the 
almost  universal  and  exclusive  custom  of  regarding  and 
representing  Him  in  defeat  and  anguish,  in  ghastliness 
and  torture,  with  livid  face  and  blood-stained  limbs,  as  we 
see  in  all  the  hideous  Calvaries  and  road-side  crosses  and 
images  of  the  cretinous  Swiss-Italian  valleys,  was  not  only 

61 


62  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

unknown  to  the  Christians  of  the  first  four  centuries,  but 
would  have  been  abhorred  and  repudiated  by  them.  It 
was  a  revolution  complete  and  absolute  from  the  days 
when  joy,  abounding  gladness,  fervid  exultation,  an 
almost  intoxication  of  inspiring  enthusiasm,  was  as  much 
a  characteristic  of  Christianity  as  simplicity  of  heart.  It 
was  due  to  the  gloom,  despondency,  and  misery  which 
afflicted  later  centuries,  and  to  the  exaggerated,  self- 
macerating,  Manichean  asceticism  which  was  only  re- 
deemed from  being  as  unmitigated  a  curse  as  it  was  a 
frightful  error  by  the  sincerity  of  those  who  thought  that 
thereby  they  were  pleasing  God.  But  under  this  influence 
the  smile  which  irradiates  the  boyish  face  of  the  Christ  of 
the  Catacombs  fades  away  more  and  more  disastrously  as 
the  ages  go  on  and  is  changed  into  an  expression  of  misery 
and  wrath. 

iii.  The  third  reason  was  the  vivid  sense  of  Christ's 
near  immediate  Presence.  The  realization  of  this  Incor- 
poreal, Eternal,  Spiritual  nearness  made  Him  infinitely 
closer  to  the  souls  with  whom  and  in  whom  He  dwelt 
than  He  could  have  been  by  His  bodily  Presence  among 
His  dearest  Apostles.  The  early  Christians  never  fell  — 
none  even  of  the  Fathers  fell  —  into  the  monstrous  mod- 
ern perversion  of  regarding  the  whole  Christian  Dispensa- 
tion as  being  "the  days  when  the  Bridegroom  is  taken  from 
M«,"  and,  therefore,  days  in  which  we  must  continually 
mourn  and  fast.  The  early  Christians  —  not  yet  misled 
by  the  errors  and  corruptions  of  the  Dark  Ages  perpetuated 
in  the  Mediaeval  Church  —  believed  the  plain  words  of 
Christ  that  it  was  expedient  even  for  His  nearest  and  best- 
beloved  that  He  should  be  taken  away  from  them,1  because 
His  departure  from  them  was  the  condition  of  that  gift  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  Who  was  to  make  Him  far  nearer  to 
them  for  evermore.  To  the  Christians  of  the  Catacombs 
the  symbols,  types,  and  idealizations  in  which  they  re- 
joiced were  but  dim  and  distant,  yet  pleasant  reminders 

1  John  xvi.  7. 


REASON  FOR  THE  RESERVE.          63 

of  that  Invisible  yet  ever-present  Personality  which  was 
their  hope  and  strength.  They  would  have  said  in  the 
spirit  of  St.  Paul,  "Yea,  though  we  have  known  Christ 
after  the  flesh,  yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no  more." 


i  2  Cor.  v.  16. 


BOOK  II. 


I. 

ALL  TRADITION  OF   CHRIST'S    HUMAN  ASPECT   WAS   LOST. 
"  Qua  fuerit  Hie  facie  penitus  ignoramus."  —  AUG.  De  Trin.  VIII.  5. 

"  OF  the  physiognomy  of  Jesus,"  says  Pere  Didon,  in  his 
Vie  de  Jesus,  "contemporary  documents  have  left  us  no 
portrait.  Some  Fathers,  understanding  too  literally  the 
passage  of  Isaiah  on  the  persecuted  Servant  of  Jehovah, 
have  even  refused  Him  beauty.  If  the  face  of  man  reflects 
the  invisible  soul,  Jesus  must  have  been  the  most  beautiful 
among  the  sons  of  men.  The  light  of  God,  veiled  by  the 
Shadow  of  Sorrow,  illuminated  His  brow  with  a  softened 
splendour  which  human  art  will  never  succeed  in  paint- 
ing. The  Greeks,  those  masters  of  aesthetic,  have  given 
Him  the  Divine  majesty ;  the  Latins,  the  moving  aspect  of 
the  Man  of  Sorrows.  Thus  He  has  the  aureole  and  the 
nimbus,  —  the  aureole  of  a  martyr,  and  the  nimbus  of  a 
god." 

Whatever  may  be  written  to  the  contrary,  it  is  abso- 
lutely certain  that  the  world  and  the  Church  have  lost  for 
ever  all  vestige  of  trustworthy  tradition  concerning  the 
aspect  of  Jesus  on  earth. 

There  is  not  one  syllable  in  the  Gospels  or  in  the  Epis- 
tles respecting  the  appearance  of  His  form  or  face.  Nor  is 
there  the  vestige  of  any  reference  to  it  in  the  literature  of 
the  first  two  centuries. 

The  fact  itself  is  deeply  significant.  It  is  impossible 
that  the  earthly  aspect  of  Christ  should  have  been  so  com- 
pletely forgotten  if  the  early  Christians  had  centred  their 
thoughts  on  the  Human  Sufferer,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus, 

67 


68  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

and  not  much  more  on  the  Risen,  the  Ascended,  the  Glori- 
fied, the  Eternal  King,  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light,  Very 
God  of  Very  God.  The  first  preachers  of  the  Faith  dwelt 
in  no  wise  on  the  physical  details  of  the  transitory  mani- 
festation ;  their  thoughts  were  absorbed  in  the  Eternal 
Session.  May  it  not  be  also  possible  that  the  witnesses  of 
His  Resurrection  had  been  struck  with  the  difference  be- 
tween Jesus  as  they  had  seen  Him  in  the  days  when  He 
had  "emptied  Himself  of  His  glory,"  and  the  glorified 
Body  in  which  He  appeared  to  them  after  His  Resurrec- 
tion? That  there  was  a  difference  is  clear.  Even  the 
loving  gaze  of  Mary  Magdalene  did  not  instantly  recognize 
Him.  To  the  two  disciples,  on  the  way  to  Emmaus,  He 
remained  unknown  till  the  breaking  of  bread.  The  Apos- 
tles, when  He  first  appeared  among  them,  were  terrified, 
and  thought  that  they  saw  a  Spirit. 

This  is  because  the  exinanitio,  the  kenosis,  as  it  is  theo- 
logically termed,  involved  in  the  purely  human  condition, 
in  which  He  "wore  a  tent  like  ours  and  of  the  same 
material,"  vanished  with  the  fulness  of  perfect  life,  in 
which,  after  His  triumph  over  Death,  "the  Body  of  His 
humiliation "  was  replaced  by  "  the  Body  of  His  glory," 
which  transcended  the  ordinary  limitations  of  Time  and 
Space.1 

However  that  may  be,  the  remarks  of  the  earliest  Fathers 
on  the  subject  of  Christ's  aspect  do  not  profess  to  be  based 
upon  tradition,  but  only  on  applications  of  the  Prophecies, 
or  on  a  priori  reasoning.  They  did  not  pretend  to  refer  to 
any  authoritative,  much  less  to  any  decisive,  account  of 
how  He  had  looked  on  earth,  as  He  moved  among  His  dis- 
ciples, a  Man  among  men. 

There  were,  in  the  Church  of  the  first  centuries,  two 
views  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other. 

i.  The  earliest  writers  who  allude  to  the  subject  at  all 
are  unanimous  in  asserting  that  He  had  no  human  comeli- 
ness. They  were  led  to  this  view  chiefly  by  the  passages 

1  John  xx.  19  ;  Luke  xxiv.  31,  etc. 


TRADITION   OF   CHRIST'S   HUMAN   ASPECT.          69 

in  Isaiah  about  the  Suffering  Servant  of  the  Lord,  which 
they  applied  to  Christ  both  literally  and  in  its  details. 
They  therefore  said  of  Him  :  — 

"His  visage  was  so  marred  more  than  any  man,  and  His  form 
more  than  the  sons  of  men  "  (Isa.  lii.  14) ; 

and,  — 

"  He  hath  no  form  nor  comeliness,  and  when  we  see  Him  there  is 
no  beauty  that  we  should  desire  Him.  He  was  despised  and  rejected 
of  men ;  a  Man  of  Sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief ;  and  as  one 
from  whom  men  hide  their  face  He  was  despised,  and  we  esteemed 
Him  not  "  (Isa.  liii.  2,  3). 

But  there  were  other  reasons  why  they  welcomed  this 
opinion.  On  the  one  hand,  they  lived  in  days  of  trial  and 
affliction,  and  the}'  needed  the  support  of  His  sympathy  as 
a  sufferer ;  on  the  other,  they  were  surrounded  by  a 
heathendom  that  deified  material  beauty.1  In  Alexan- 
dria, especially,  heathendom  had  just  caused  in  them  a 
reaction  of  mighty  disgust  and  indignation  by  raising  the 
beautiful  minion  of  an  emperor  into  a  god  worshipped  in 
temples,  and  honoured  with  unnumbered  statues.  Human 
beauty,  at  such  a  time,  had  for  them  but  few  associations 
which  were  not  connected  with  Pagan  degradation. 

The  earliest  reference  to  the  aspect  of  Jesus  is  in 
JUSTIN  MARTYR.  He  says  that  when  Jesus  came  to 
the  Jordan,  "He  appeared  without  beauty  (detS?)<?)  as 
the  Scriptures  proclaimed."2 

CLEMENT  or  ALEXANDRIA  says,3  "Himself  also,  the 
Head  of  the  Church,  passed  through  the  world  unlovely 
in  the  flesh,  and  without  form,  thereby  teaching  us  to 
look  at  the  Unseen  and  incorporate  of  the  Divine 
Cause."  He  quotes  Isaiah  liii.  3,  as  the  description  of 
Him  in  prophecy.4  Again,  he  describes  Jesus  as  empty- 

1  Gieseler,  Eccl.  Hist.  I.  65  n.,  E.  Tr. 

2  Dial.  c.  Tryph.  14,  36,  85,  88.     He  appeals  to  Ps.  xxii.  and  Isa.  liii. 

3  Strom.  III.  17,  §  103. 
*  Id.  Strom.  II.  5,  §  22. 


70  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

ing  Himself  of  all  human  beauty  in  the  flesh,  while 
He  bestowed  upon  us  the  adornment  of  Immortality.1 
Once  more,  he  makes  the  important  remark :  "  For 
instance,  not  in  vain  did  the  Lord  will  to  use  a  com- 
monplace (eureXei)  form  of  body,  that  no  one  might 
hold  aloof  from  His  utterances  while  praising  His  bloom 
and  wondering  at  His  beauty."  2  And  once  more,  he  says, 
that  He  was  "  base  in  aspect "  (atV^po?  rrjv  o-fyiv),  "  not 
displaying  the  beauty  of  the  flesh,  but  manifesting  the 
beauty  of  the  soul  in  His  beneficence,  and  that  of  the  flesh 
in  His  immortality."  3 

TERTULLIAN,  in  arguing  for  the  reality  of  human 
nature  in  Christ  as  Very  Man,  says,  as  though  it  were 
certain,  that  the  question,  "  Whence  has  He  this  learning, 
and  these  wondrous  works?"  was  the  question  of  men 
who  despised  His  human  aspect,  —  "  so  completely  was 
His  body  devoid  even  of  human  nobleness,  much  more  of 
heavenly  lustre.4  Even  if  the  Prophets  hold  silence  about 
His  ignoble  appearance,  the  very  sufferings  and  contume- 
lies He  endured  speak.  His  sufferings  proved  that  His 
body  was  human  ;  His  contumelies  that  it  was  unlovely. 
Would  any  one  have  dared  to  graze  with  the  tip  of  his 
nail  a  new  body  (corpus  novum),  or  to  disgrace  with 
spittings  a  face  which  did  not  deserve  them  ? "  The 
fourteenth  chapter  of  his  book  against  the  Jews  deals 
with  His  voluntary  humiliation,  and  says,  "  He  was  not 
even  pleasing  in  appearance."  5 

So  completely  did  this  view  prevail,  that  CELSTTS  actu- 
ally taunted  the  Christians  with  their  worship  of  one  who 
was  so  mean  in  appearance. 

1  Id.  Peed.  III.  1,  §  3.  2  id.  Strom.  VI.  17,  §  151. 

3  Peed.  III.  1. 

4  Tert.  de  Came  Christe,  IX.  :  "  Adeo  nee  humanae  honestatis  corpus 
fuit,  nedura  coelestis  claritatis." 

6  Id.  c.  Jud.  14  :  "  Ne  aspectu  quidem  honestus."  The  phrase  "  corpus 
novum"  means  one  of  unheard-of  beauty.  Comp.  Aug.  in  Ps.  cxxvii. 
"nisi  foedum  putarent  non  insisterent.  Mirabilis  forma  exarmasset  tor- 
tores." 


TRADITION   OF   CHRIST'S   HUMAN    ASPECT.          71 

ORIGEN,  in  reply,  admits  the  general  truth  of  the 
charge,  but  says  that  "though  something  was  perhaps 
lacking  to  the  Saviour's  beauty,  yet  the  expression  of  the 
face  was  noble  and  divine,"  and  that  His  aspect  varied 
with  the  spiritual  capacities  of  the  worshipper.1 

Celsus  had  said  that  if  Jesus  was  divine,  His  person 
must  have  possessed  grandeur,  beauty,  impressiveness 
(/m-raTTA.??^?),  whereas,  "  He  was,  as  they  report,  little, 
and  ill-favoured,  and  ignoble."  Origen  admits  that  from 
some  passages  it  might  be  inferred  that  Christ  was  ill- 
favoured  (SucretS?)?),  but  not  that  He  was  ignoble  (dyevr)s)  ; 
nor  is  there  any  certain  evidence  that  He  was  dwarfish. 
After  quoting,  as  usual,  from  Isaiah  liii.  1-3,  he  says  that, 
on  the  other  side,  we  must  not  overlook  Psalm  xlv.  3—4 
(LXX.):  "Gird  Thy  sword  upon  Thy  thigh,  O  thou 
most  mighty,  with  Thy  comeliness  and  beauty"  Celsus 
had  quoted  the  one  passage  which  prophetically  indicated 
the  Coming  Christ,  and  ignored  the  other.  Origen  then 
proceeds  to  speak  of  "  the  changing  relation  of  Christ's 
body,  according  to  the  capacity  of  the  spectator  .  .  .  inas- 
much as  it  appeared  to  each  one  of  such  a  nature  as  it  was 
requisite  for  him  to  behold  z£."  In  proof  of  this,  he  refers 
to  the  Transfiguration,  and  says  that  "  there  is  something 
mystical  in  this  doctrine."  Celsus,  and  other  outside  crit- 
ics, "  cannot  know  the  meaning  of  the  different  appear- 
ances of  Jesus." 

All  this  time  there  had  been  no  authorized  or  acknow- 
ledged picture  of  Christ.  Irenseus  (202)  spoke  with  strong 
indignation  against  the  Basilidian  and  Carpocratian  Gnos- 
tics, who  had  among  their  images  a  figure  of  Christ,  which 
they  declared  was  derived  from  one  which  had  been  made 
by  order  of  Pilate,  and  which  they  at  once  adorned  with 
wreaths  and  degraded  by  placing  it  side  by  side  with 
busts  of  Pythagoras,  Plato,  and  Aristotle.2  It  was  prob- 

1  This  answer  to  the  sneer  of  Celsus  is  contained  in  C.  Cels.  VI.  75,  76. 

2  Iren.  c.  Hcer.   I.   24.   5.     See,   too,   Aug.   De  H<xr.  VII.      "Sectae 
ipsius  (Carpocratis)  fuisse  traditur  socia  quaedam  Marcellina,  quae  colebat 


72  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

ably  from  these  pseudo-likenesses  that  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander Severus,  in  the  third  century,  derived  the  statue  of 
Christ  which,  according  to  Lampridius,  he  placed  in  his 
lararium  with  others  of  Abraham,  Orpheus,  and  Apollo- 
nius  of  Tyana.1  But  Irenseus  denied  that  they  had  the 
smallest  sanction  for  the  type  which  they  adopted. 

ii.  The  reaction  which  set  in  against  the  views  of  the 
early  Fathers  was  perfectly  natural.  It  was  felt  that 
those  views  rested  solely  on  subjective  considerations 
which  seized  on  the  passages  of  the  Prophets  which 
seemed  to  support  them  and  overlooked  others.  But 
since  this  method  of  argument  shewed  that  nothing  was 
really  known  respecting  Christ's  face,  there  were  counter- 
subjective  impressions  which  told  more  strongly  the  other 
way,  and  which  might,  with  equal  right,  appeal  to  passages 
of  the  Old  Testament.  "The  brightness  and  majesty  of 
His  Divinity,"  says  St.  Jerome,  "  hidden  under  the  veil  of 
His  flesh,  shed  its  rays  over  His  human  countenance,  and 
subdued  all  who  had  the  happiness  to  gaze  upon  it."  2 

Again,  in  writing  to  Principia  on  the  44th  Psalm,  Je- 
rome applies  to  Christ  the  verse  "  Thou  art  fairer  than  the 
children  of  men."  How,  he  asks,  could  this  be  said  of 
one  whom  Isaiah  described  as  having  no  beauty  that  we 
could  desire  Him?  That  description,  he  answers,  only 
applies  to  the  body  of  Christ,  as  it  was  defaced  by  blows 
and  spitting,  and  the  verse  of  the  Psalm  to  the  beauty 
of  the  virtues  in  His  sacred  and  adorable  body.  "  For 
unless  He  had  possessed  something  starry  (sidereum  quid- 
darn)  in  His  face  and  eyes,  the  Apostles  would  never 
have  followed  Him  at  once,  nor  would  those  who  came  to 
seize  Him  have  fallen  to  the  ground." 

St.  Augustine  takes  the  same  side.3     There  were,  he 

imagines  Jesu  et  Pauli  et  Homeri  et  Pythagorae,  adorando  incensumque 
ponendo."  See  Raoul-Rochette,  pp.  15-18. 

1  Lamprid.  Alex.  Severus,  29. 

2  Jer.  in  Matt.  i.  8. 

»  Aug.  De  Trin.  VIII.  4,  6. 


TKADITIOX   OF   CHRIST'S   HUMAN   ASPECT.          73 

says,  in  his  time,  innumerable  pictures  of  Christ,  which 
were  all  different;  yet  His  aspect  must  have  been  one. 
If  it  be  lawful  to  appeal  to  the  Old  Testament  to  decide 
the  question,  we  may  refer  to  the  verse  of  the  44th  Psalm 
and  to  the  beauty  of  His  ancestor  David.  Apart  from 
this,  human  beauty,  when  it  is  true  beauty,  is  but  the 
translucence  of  goodness,  so  that  He  must  have  been  beau- 
tiful as  an  Infant,  beautiful  on  earth,  beautiful  in  Heaven. 
But  this  argument  is,  he  admits,  confessedly  of  an  a  priori 
character ;  for  "  qua  fuerit  Hie  facie  penitus  ignoramus." 
Augustine  was  in  communication  with  all  the  leading 
spirits  of  the  Christian  world.  Both  he  and  Jerome  had 
spent  a  part  of  their  lives  in  Rome,  and  the  former  tells 
us  that  in  his  youth  he  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  to  the 
Catacombs.  Nothing,  therefore,  can  be  clearer  than  that 
at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  there  neither  existed 
in  the  Catacombs  nor  anywhere  else  any  likeness  of  Christ 
which  was  regarded  as  more  than  at  the  best  conjectural. 

Other  writers  took  different  sides.  St.  Ambrose,  St. 
Chrysostom,  and  Theodoret  held  the  same  view  as 
St.  Jerome  and  St.  Augustine.  St.  Basil  (d.  379)  and 
St.  Cyril  of  Alexandria  held  the  opposite  opinion  because 
of  their  pronounced  exaltation  of  an  unscriptural  and 
unnatural  asceticism.  This  led  them  to  acquiesce  in  prac- 
tices which  needlessly  and  perniciously  weakened  and 
defaced  that  human  body.  They  dishonoured  the  body  of 
man  as  the  tomb  of  the  soul,  when  they  should  have  kept 
it  bright,  strong,  and  noble  as  its  living  temple.1  Cyril  of 

1  We  see  from  Basil  (Ep.  205)  and  Gregory  of  Nyssa  (d.  394) ,  that, 
by  their  time,  pictures  of  Christ  had  begun  to  be  exhibited.  In  the  ninth 
century,  Photius  says  that  each  nation  assimilated  Christ  to  its  own  type, 
Greek,  Latin,  Indian,  Ethiopian,  etc.  Some  few  have  even  gone  so  far 
as  to  imagine  that  the  Saviour  of  the  world  was  a  leper.  This  was  be- 
cause the  rendering  of  Isa.  liii.  4,  in  the  Vulgate,  for  stricken,  is  "Nos 
putavimus  eum  quasi  leprosum."  There  can,  I  think,  be  little  doubt  that 
some  of  the  ghastly  wax  and  wooden  figures  of  Christ  in  the  Swiss  and 
Italian  Calvaries  have  been  influenced  by  the  Vulgate  rendering  of  1  Pet. 
ii.  24  :  "  Ejus  livore  sanati  sumus." 


74  THE    LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Alexandria  characteristically  says  that  Jesus  was  the  most 
debased  in  look  of  the  children  of  men.1 

iii.  Assuredly  the  opinion  of  the  great  Latin  Fathers 
had  much  the  stronger  reasons  in  its  support.  At  least  as 
much  may  be  said  for  it  on  the  ground  of  Old  Testament 
analogies,  and  it  has  much  more  in  its  favour  both  (a) 
from  the  reason  of  things  and  (6)  from  what  we  read  of 
Jesus  in  the  Gospels. 

(a)  "Historically  we  know,"  says  Keim,2  "that  the 
homage  paid  by  antiquity  to  the  Saviour  in  the  glorifica- 
tion of  His  flesh,  while  we  curtail  its  details,  is  right  upon 
the  whole.  We  cannot  easily  think  of  the  even  balance 
and  harmony  of  the  spirit  that  rests  in  God,  as  united  to 
bodily  decrepitude,  or  even  to  a  repellent  physiognomy  : 
we  think  of  him  as  healthy,  vigorous,  of  expressive  coun- 
tenance, not,  as  Winer  and  Hase  supposed  on  insufficient 
grounds,  without  characteristic  features ;  as  if  a  Spirit  and 
a  will  like  His  must  not  needs  create  what  was  full  of 
character!  Perhaps  He  was  not  exactly  beautiful;  but 
at  any  rate  noble,  with  His  whole  heart  in  His  features,  of 
prepossessing  appearance." 

The  ancients  were  certainly  justified  in  regarding  real 
beauty  as  the  sacrament  of  goodness.  The  greatest  and 
most  religious  of  the  Italian  painters,  like  Botticelli  and 
Fra  Bartolommeo,  never  forgot  the  true  lesson  which  they 
had  learnt  from  Savonarola,  that  "  Creatures  are  beautiful 
in  proportion  as  they  approximate  to  the  beauty  of  their 
Creator,  and  that  perfection  of  bodily  form  is  relative  to 
beauty  of  intellect." 

(6)  As  regards  the  Gospels  we  see,  with  great  distinct- 
ness, that  every  detail  points  to  the  certainty  that  there 
was  something  majestic  and  winning  in  the  personal 
Presence  of  Jesus.  It  is  true  that  we  are  told  of  the 
beauty  of  the  young  Herodian  prince  and  priest,  Aristob- 

1  De  Nudat.  Noe,  II.  (Opp.  I.  43):  ctXXA   r6    elSos    atf-roO   &rtfj.ov   irapa 
vros  TOI)S  uioi)s  ru>v  CLvOpwiruiv. 

2  Life  of  Christ,  II.  193  (E.  TV). 


TRADITION   OF   CHRIST'S   IIl'MAX   ASPECT.          75 

ulus,  and  that  nothing  of  the  kind  is  mentioned,  even  by 
secular  historians,  concerning  Jesus.  On  the  other  hand, 
all  that  we  read  of  Him  in  the  New  Testament  points  in 
the  direction  of  a  majestic  individuality. 

Thus  it  is  recorded  that  in  His  boyhood  "  He  increased 
in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favour  with  Grod  and  man" 
and  that,  in  the  Temple,  the  great  Rabbis  "  wondered  at 
His  understanding  and  answers."  We  can  easily  imagine 
that  there  might  be  some  breath  of  true  tradition  in  the 
story  of  the  Apocryphal  Gospel  of  the  Infancy.  It  says 
that,  on  one  occasion,  the  boys  of  Nazareth  took  Him,  and 
made  Him  their  King,  and  crowned  with  flowers  the  brow 
which  was  thereafter  to  be  crowned  with  thorns,  and  made 
themselves  His  attendants  and  bade  all  the  passers-by  to 
do  homage  to  Him,  saying,  "  Come  hither,  and  adore  the 
King,  and  then  go  on  thy  way."  l 

In  the  records  of  His  manhood  we  see  the  quick  im- 
pression which  He  made  on  all  alike  with  whom  He  came 
in  contact.  The  woman  of  Samaria  had  only  talked  for  a 
few  moments  with  Him  when  she  perceived  that  He  was 
a  prophet.  The  woman  in  the  multitude  could  not 
restrain  her  enraptured  cry,  "  Blessed  is  the  womb  that 
bare  Thee,  and  the  breasts  which  Thou  hast  sucked!"2 
Even  the  Roman  lady,  the  wife  of  Pontius  Pilate,  who 
can  only  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  Him,  sent  to  warn 
her  husband,  "Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with  that  just 
man,  for  I  have  suffered  many  things  this  night  in  a  dream 
because  of  Him."  The  impassioned  devotion  of  the 
Magdalene,  the  self-sacrificing  ministrations  of  the  Holy 
Women,  would  hardly  have  been  elicited  by  any  one  who 
was,  as  Justin  says,  "  base  in  aspect,  and  uncomely." 

Xor  do  ugly  and  marred  human  beings  readily  kindle 
that  tender  love  and  enthusiasm  and  confidence  in  young 
children  which  —  as  we  see  again  and  again  in  the  Gospels 
—  was  inspired  by  Jesus.  The  little  children  nestled 
gladly  in  His  loving  arms,  and  even  the  Levitic  choir-boys, 

1  See  Arab.  Ei-ang.  Inf.  C.  41.  2  Luke  xi.  27. 


76  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

carried  away  by  their  enthusiasm,  horrified  their  malignant 
priests  by  shouting  "  Hosanna "  to  Him  in  the  Temple 
courts. 

We  must  also  observe  the  instant  effect  of  His  word 
and  presence  upon  men  of  all  sorts  and  conditions,  not 
only  on  the  diseased  and  afflicted,  but  on  the  strong,  the 
noble,  and  the  young.  The  blind,  and  the  lame,  and  the 
lepers  instinctively  cried  to  Him  for  mercy.  The  sight  of 
His  divine  calm  exorcised  the  wild  perversion  of  the  demo- 
niacs. He  gathered  round  Him,  as  it  were,  a  garland  of  the 
fresh,  bright  youths  of  His  native  Galilee,  who  at  a  word 
forsook  all  and  followed  Him.  The  rich  young  ruler 
came  running,  kneeling,  prostrating  himself  at  His  feet.1 
The  vulgar  throng  of  His  arresters  shrank  back  and  fell 
to  the  ground  before  His  unarmed  innocence.  The  eagle 
spirit  of  the  Great  Forerunner,  which  never  quailed  before 
any  man,  or  any  multitude  of  men,  felt  itself  bowed  to  the 
dust  before  His  milder  majesty  and  stainless  manhood. 
Even  the  blood-stained  Pilate  was  awfully  impressed  by 
Him  in  His  utter  helplessness,  and  recognized  the  unique 
and  inherent  royalty  which  shone  forth  from  the  humilia- 
tion of  shame  and  spitting.  The  centurion  who  saw  Him 
amid  the  infamous  roar  of  universal  execration  —  who 
watched  Him  subjected  to  the  most  abject  circumstances 
of  insult  to  which  man  can  be  exposed  —  exclaimed  in  the 
hush  of  awe  after  His  death,  "  Truly,  this  was  the  "  (or  a) 
"  Son  of  God ! "  Even  the  brutal  multitude  who  had 
gibed  at  Him  were  so  much  overawed  by  the  circum- 
stances of  His  Crucifixion  that  they  returned  to  Jerusalem 
smiting  on  their  breasts. 

"  It  is  plain,"  says  Keim,  "  that  His  was  a  manly,  com- 
manding, prophetic  figure.  The  people,  so  much  at  the 
mercy  of  outward  impressions,  could  not  otherwise  have 
greeted  Him,  especially  just  after  John,  as  a  prophet,  nay, 
as  the  Son  of  David  ;  and  the  reproach  of  His  foes  would 
else  have  attacked  Him,  even  on  the  side  of  bodily  defects. 

1  Mark  x.  17,  Trpoo-dpa.fj.uv  .   . 


TRADITION   OF   CHRIST'S   HUMAN   ASPECT.          77 

Besides,  we  have  the  fact  lying  before  us  that  His  appear- 
ance on  the  scene,  His  word,  His  voice,  His  eye,  seized 
and  shook  the  hearers  and  beholders  ;  that  many  women, 
children,  sick  and  poor,  felt  happy  at  His  feet  and  in  His 
presence.  That  the  full  freshness,  quick  vitality,  and 
penetrating  sharpness  of  all  the  senses  were  His,  is  shown 
by  the  rich  view  of  the  world  which  His  Spirit  was  enabled 
to  gather  in.  His  vigour  of  health  is  proved  by  the  wear- 
ing restlessness  of  His  life,  and  by  the  daily  expenditure 
of  strength,  both  of  body  and  mind,  demanded  by  the 
stormy  importunity  of  the  mental  and  physical  misery  of 
Israel." 

I  should  draw  from  the  Apocalypse  another  argument 
for  the  majesty  of  His  appearance.  Would  His  favourite 
disciple,  whose  head  had  lain  upon  His  breast  at  the  Last 
Supper,  have  described  Him  in  a  way  entirely  antagonistic 
to  the  facts  of  His  human  appearance  ?  Yet  this  is  the 
picture  to  be  painted. 

"  And  I  turned  to  see  the  Voice  which  spake  with  me. 
And  being  turned,  I  saw  seven  golden  lamps ;  and  in 
the  midst  of  the  seven  lamps  one  like  unto  the  Son  of 
Man,  clothed  with  a  garment  down  to  the  feet,  and  girt 
about  the  breasts  with  a  golden  girdle.  His  head  and 
His  hair  were  white  like  wool,  as  white  as  snow;  and 
His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire ;  and  His  feet  like 
unto  fine  brass  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace ;  and  His 
voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters ;  .  .  .  and  His  coun- 
tenance was  as  the  sun  shineth  in  his  strength." 

Stupendous  indeed  was  the  difference  between  this 
vision  and  the  human  Jesus !  The  Apostle  who  saw  it 
might  well  have  thought  — 

"  Can  this  be  He,  who  wont  to  stray, 
A  pilgrim  on  the  world's  highway, 
Oppressed  by  power,  and  mocked  by  pride, 
The  Nazarene,  the  Crucified  ?  " 

I  think,  however,  that  the  terms  of  the  description  tell 


78  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

entirely  in  favour  of  the  view  that  Jesus  wore  on  earth  an 
aspect  of  dignity  and  beauty,  and  this  view,  though  it 
struggled  for  existence  with  the  debased  ideals  of  will- 
worship  and  self-maceration,  prevailed  ultimately  in  the 
Universal  Church. 


II. 


PRETENDED   PICTURES  AND   LEGENDARY   DESCRIPTIONS 
OF   CHRIST. 

"Quale  e  colui,  che  .  .  . 
Viene  a  veder  la  Veronica  nostra, 
Che  per  1'  antica  fama  non  si  sazia." 

—  DAXTE,  Parad.  XXXI.  103. 

BEFORE  I  proceed  to  show  the  actual  manner  in  which 
Christ  was  presented  in  Art,  —  that  is,  the  ideal  under 
which  He  presented  Himself  to  thousands  of  different 
minds  in  different  epochs  of  Christendom,  —  I  must  pause 
to  point  out  how  completely  the  existence  of  the  con- 
troversy of  which  I  have  traced  the  history,  disproves 
the  genuineness  of  the  attempts  to  produce  that  likeness 
which  baseless  legends  asserted  to  exist.  These  asserted 
likenesses  passed  under  the  name  of  eikones  or  imagines 
acJieiropoietoi. 

1.  There  is  the  picture  which  Christ  is  said  to  have  sent 
to  Abgarus  V.,  king  of  Edessa,  Avith  the  apocr}rphal  letter 
recorded  by  Eusebius,1  and  also  quoted  by  Moses  Cho- 
renensis.2  Abgar,  surnamed  Ucomo  the  Black,  is  said  to 
have  reigned  from  A.D.  9  to  A.D.  46.  Abgar's  letter  and 
the  supposed  reply  of  Jesus  are  probably  as  old  as  the  third 
century.  The  king  is  supposed  to  have  sent  the  Greek 
emissaries  who  came  to  Philip  in  Holy  Week  desiring  to 

1  Euseb.  H.  E.  I.  13.     He  professes  to  derive  it  from  Syriac  docu- 
ments preserved  at  Edessa,  H.  E.  IV.  27.    Evagrius  calls  it  a  "  God-made 
likeness"  (0e6Tev/cTos) .  Hofmann,  Leben  Jesu  nach  d.  Apocryphen,  p.  308. 
Dr.  Gliickselig  gives  what  he  supposes  to  be  an  ancient  Coptic  copy  of  it 
found  at  Nazareth. 

2  Hist.  Armen.  II.  28. 

79 


80  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

see  Jesus,  and  to  have  entrusted  them  with  a  letter  to 
Jesus,  inviting  him  to  a  safe  and  beautiful  retreat  at 
Edessa,  if  he  would  come  there  and  heal  the  king's  dis- 
ease.1 The  brief  reply  is  mainly  couched  in  Scriptural 
language,  and  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  Christ  "  with 
His  own  hands."  2  It  declines  the  offer,  and  adds,  "  When 
I  am  taken  up,  I  will  send  thee  one  of  My  disciples  to  heal 
thy  sickness."  The  miracle  is  said  to  have  been  wrought 
by  a  picture  which  Jesus  sent,  which  was  conveyed  by  the 
hands  of  Thaddeus,  one  of  the  Seventy.  One  account  says 
that  Ananias,  one  of  the  Greek  emissaries,  was  a  painter, 
and  tried  to  take  the  portrait  of  Christ.  He  failed,  from 
the  splendour  of  His  countenance ;  but  Jesus  thereupon 
washed  His  face,  and  miraculously  impressed  His  features 
(aTreiKovia-fjia)  on  the  linen  cloth  with  which  He  wiped 
them.3  This  miraculous  likeness,  according  to  Evagrius, 
saved  Edessa  when  besieged  by  Chosroes,  A.D.  540. 4  In 
727  Gregory  II.  in  his  letter  to  the  iconoclastic  Emperor 
Leo  III.,  bids  him  send  and  see  this  image  which  has 
become  an  object  of  wide-spread  pilgrimage.5  According 
to  others,  the  likeness  was  on  a  tile.  The  supposed  cloth 
was  transferred  to  Constantinople,  A.D.  944.  Possession 
of  it  is  now  claimed  by  the  Armenian  Church  in  Genoa, 
and  by  St.  Sylvester's  at  Rome.  It  is  said  to  have  fur- 

1  Leprosy,  Cedrenus,  Hist.  p.  165 ;   gout,  Procopius,  De  Bell.  Peru. 
II.  12. 

2  Arab.  Gosp.  Inf.  XLVIII. ;  Niceph.  II.  7  ;  Evagrius,  IV.  27  ;  Cureton, 
Anc.  Syriac  Documents.     See  Diet,  of  Christian  Biog.  s.vv.  Abgar  and 
Thaddeus. 

3  According  to  John  of  Damascus,  His  own  garment,  De  Fid.  Orth.  IV. 
16. 

*  Evagr.  H.  E.  IV.  37 ;  Leo  Diaconus,  Hist.  IV.  10 ;  Niebuhr,  Script. 
Byzant.  XI.  70 ;  Labbe,  VII.  12. 

6  See  Represent,  of  Jesus  Christ,  Diet,  of  Christ.  Antt.  pp.  874-880 
(by  Rev.  R.  St.  J.  Tyrwhitt)  ;  Abgar  (Armen.  Awghair,  or  Exalted)  ; 
Euseb.  H.  E.  I.  13 ;  Jul.  African.  Fragn.  ap. ;  G.  Syncell.  Chronoyr. ; 
Evagrius,  H.  E.  V.  27;  Joh.  Damasc.  De  imagin.  L,  De  Fid.  Orth.  IV. 
17  ;  Niceph.  //.  E.  II.  7.  Mr.  Heaphy's  picture  is  only  from  one  of  the 
conventional  copies. 


PICTURES   AND   DESCRIPTIONS   OF   CHRIST.          81 

nished  the  type  whiph  was  followed  by  the  most  ancient 
mosaics.     It  was  youthful  and  beautiful. 

2.  Equally  famous  and  imaginary  is  the  "  Veronica " 
likeness  of  the   Suffering   Saviour  crowned  with  thorns, 
now  at  St.  Peter's,  Rome,  and  last  publicly  exhibited  — 
though  practically  little  or  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but 
a  blackish  cloth  in  a  gilt  frame  —  to  the  Bishops  assembled 
to  pass  the  dogma  of  the  Virgin's  Immaculate  Conception 
in  1884.1     Veronica  is  said  to  have  been  a  holy  matron  who 
offered  to  Christ  a  handkerchief  to  wipe  His  face  on  His 
way  to  Golgotha.     For  her  reward  His  image  was  miracu- 
lously stamped  upon  the  cloth.     Many  legends,  all  vary- 
ing, and  many  of  them  wildly  absurd,  have  gathered  round 
this  nucleus.     According  to  some,  the  woman  was  Martha 
of  Bethany.     The  cloth  is  said  to  have  been  brought  to 
Rome  in  700.     It  is  disputed  whether  Veronica  is  a  cor- 
ruption  of    Vera  icon,   "  true    likeness,"  or  of  the  name 
Berenice.2 

These  were  the  most  famous  of  the  "  images  not  made 
with  hands." 

3.  Veronica  is  also  the  name  given  in  some  legends  to 
the  woman  with  the  issue  of  blood,  who  is  said  by  Euse- 
bius  to  have  erected  in  front  of  her  house  a  statue  of 
Christ  healing  her  by  His  touch.     Eusebius  says  that  he 
himself  had  seen  this  statue  at  Paneas.     It  was  destroyed 
by    Julian,   who   substituted   in    its   place   his   own   like- 

1  See  Edinb.  Her.,  October,  1867.  Mons.  Barbier  de  Montault,  the  only 
ecclesiastic,  not  a  bishop,  who  was  allowed  to  see  the  Veil  of  St.  Veronica 
on  Dee.  ^,  1S34,  writes,  "The  place  of  the  impression  exhibits  only  a 
blackish  surface,  not  giving  any  evidence  of  human  features."  He  says 
that  the  souvenirs  sold  of  it  in  the  Sacristy  of  St.  Peter's  have  not  the 
least  iconographic  value.  Ann.  Archi'ol.  XXIII.  2M2.  Villani  (VIII.  86) 
mentions  that  it  was  shewn  at  the  Jubilee  of  1300 — "Per  consolazione 
dei  cristiani  pellegrini  si  monstrava  in  San  Piero  la  Veronica  del  Sudario 
di  Cristo."  See  Herzog,  Rtalenct/kl.  XVII.  86.  Dufresne  Glossar.  s.v. 
Veronica.  Dante  himself  describes  it  as  "  quell'  Imagine  benedetta,  la 
quale  Gesu  C.  Iasci6  a  noi  per  esemplo  della  sua  figura  "  (  Vita  nuova). 

-  A  copy  "from  the  Sacristy  of  St.  Peter's"  is  given  by  Mr.  Heaphy, 
p.  4. 


82  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

ness.1  There  are  many  divergent  stories  about  this  statue 
erected  by  Veronica.  It  is  now  believed  to  have  been  in 
reality  a  votive  statue  erected  by  the  city  of  Csesarea  Phi- 
lippi  to  the  Emperor  Hadrian,  with  the  inscription,  "  To  the 
Saviour,  the  Benefactor."  Many  kings  and  emperors  were 
in  the  provinces  described  as  Soter,  "saviour,"  or  Euergetes^ 
"benefactor,"  and  this  originated  the  mistake.  In  any 
case  the  statue  was  broken  up  and  lost.  Even  had  it 
been  what  it  was  supposed  to  be,  the  notion  of  any  like- 
ness is  out  of  the  question.  Eusebius  entirely  disapproved 
of  it  as  heathenish.2  Nothing  is  more  certain  than  that 
the  early  Christians  utterly  repudiated  both  statues  and 
actual  pictures  which  pretended  to  represent  the  Lord.3 

4.  Various  ancient  pictures  are  attributed  to  the  skill  of 
St.  Luke.4     Possibly  the  notion  rose  from  the  works  of  a 
Greek  painter  at  Mount  Athos,  who  bore  the  name  of  Lucas. 
The  story  that  the  Evangelist  painted  Christ  occurs  first 
in  a  work  by  a  Greek  monk,  Michael  (d.  826).     This  is 
repeated  by  Simeon  Metaphrastes  (fl.  936),  and   by  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas  (d.  1274),  who  says  that  the  picture  was 
in  the  chapel  of  the  Santa  Scala.     It  was  vouched  for  by 
Gregory  IX.  in  1234. 

5.  The  famous  Volto  Santo,  or  "  Holy  Face,"  at  Lucca, 
which  furnished  to  William  Rufus  his  favourite  oath,  — 
"  by  the  face  of  God,"  —  is  carved  in  wood  on  a  crucifix, 
and  is  attributed  to  Nicodemus.5     It  is  an  early  Byzantine 


1  Euseb.  H.  E.  VII.  18  ;  Sozomen,  H.  E.  V.  21 ;  Asterius,  Bishop  of 
Amassea  (Labbe,  VII.  210). 

2  He  says  that  she  erected  it  eOviicrj  <rvvr)0tlq.  <ruTTJpas  n^v. 

3  See  a  learned  note  in  the  translation  of  Tertullian,  in  the  "Oxford 
Library  of  the  Fathers,"  p.  109.     Dr.  Pusey  there  quotes  Orig.  c.  Gels. 
IV.  31,  VIII.  17  ;  Lactant.  De  Mort.  Persec.  C.  12  ;  Clem.  Alex.  Strom. 
VII.  5  ;  Protrept.,  p.  18,  §  4  ;  Tert.  De  Idol,  and  c.  Hermog.    The  Encra- 
tites  were  severely  blamed  for  having  pictures  of  Christ.     Iren.  c.  Hcer. 
XXV.  6  ;  Epiphan.  Hcer.  XXVII.  6. 

*  One  is  given  by  Heaphy,  p.  18. 

5  Dante  alludes  to  it,  Inf.  XXI.  48 :"  Qui  non  ha  luogo  il  santo  volto." 
An  image  at  Berytus,  made  by  Nicodemus,  is  mentioned  in  a  passage 


PICTURES   AND   DESCRIPTIONS  OF   CHRIST.          83 

crucifix  in  the  Duomo,  and  was  brought  to  Lucca  from 
the  Holy  Land  in  782.  It  is  only  exhibited  three  times 
a  year. 

6.  A  head  of  Christ  was  said  to  have  been  carved  on  an 
emerald,  now  lost,  known   as  "  the  Emerald  Vernicle  of 
the  Vatican."     Bajazet  II.  gave  it  to  Pope  Innocent  VIII. 
about  1488.1     It  is  said  to  have  been  made  by  order  of 
the   Emperor  Tiberius,  but  is  probably  a  plaque  of  the 
early  Byzantine    School.     The   engraving   is,   in   fact,   a 
mere   reproduction   of   the    Saviour's   head   in    Raphael's 
Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.     This,  however,  may  have 
been  influenced  by  older  paintings  which  were  common  in 
the  sixteenth  century.2 

As  to  these  and  all  others,  we  may  say  with  Dr.  Pusey, 
"No  account  of  any  picture  of  our  Lord  being  publicly 
used  occurs  in  the  six  first  centuries."  3 

7.  Passing  over  other  supposed  pictures,   we  come  to 
three  famous  apocryphal  descriptions    of  the  Man  Christ 
Jesus. 

i.  One  was  given  by  John  of  Damascus  in  the  eighth 
century,  and  is  preserved  in  Nicephorus.4  Jesus  is  de- 
scribed as  beautiful  and  strikingly  tall,  with  fair  and 
slightly  curling  locks,  on  which  no  hand  save  that  of  His 
mother  had  ever  passed.  He  had  dark  eyebrows  which 
met  in  the  middle,  an  oval  countenance,  a  complexion 
pale,  olive-tinted,  and  of  the  colour  of  wheat  (o-tro'^/oof?), 
bright  eyes  like  the  Virgin's,  a  slightly  stooping  attitude, 
a  voice  sweet  and  sonorous,  and  a  look  expressive  of 
patience,  nobleness,  and  wisdom.5 

from  Pseudo-Athanasius,  read  before  the  Second  Council  of  Nice, 
A.D.  787.  Labbe,  VII.  217. 

1  C.  W.  King,  Archceol.  Jour.  1870,  pp.  181-190  ;  Way,  Ib.  1872,  pp. 
109-119. 

2  Churchill  Babington,  in  Diet,  of  Christ.  Antt.  I.  718. 

3  "The  first  is  in  Leontius  Neapolitanus,  Apol.  pro  Christ.  A.D.  600." 
—  Tertullian,  "Library  of  the  Fathers,"  p.  109. 

4  John  Damasc.  Opp.  I.  340  ;  Xiceph.  H.  E.  I.  40. 

5  The  Damascene  indignantly  reproaches  the  Manichees  with  the  notion 


84  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

ii.  The  second  description  is  fuller.  It  is  found  in  a 
supposed  letter  of  "  Lentulus,  president  of  the  people  of 
Jerusalem,  to  the  Roman  Senate."  "  There  has  appeared," 
it  says,  "  in  our  times  a  man  of  tall  stature,  beautiful,  with 
a  venerable  countenance,  which  they  who  look  on  it  can 
both  love  and  fear.  His  hair  is  waving  and  crisp,  some- 
what wine-coloured,  and  glittering  as  it  flows  down  over 
His  shoulders,  with  a  parting  in  the  middle,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Nazarenes.1  His  brow  is  smooth  and  most 
serene ;  His  face  is  without  any  spot  or  wrinkle,  and 
glows  with  a  delicate  flush.  His  nose  and  mouth  are  of 
faultless  contour;  the  beard  is  abundant  and  hazel-col- 
oured like  His  hair,  not  long,  but  forked.  His  eyes  are 
prominent,  brilliant,  and  change  their  colour.  In  denun- 
ciation He  is  terrible,  calm  and  loving  in  admonition, 
cheerful  but  with  unimpared  dignity.  He  has  never  been 
seen  to  laugh,  but  oftentimes  to  weep.  His  hands  and 
limbs  are  beautiful  to  look  upon.  In  speech  He  is  grave, 
reserved,  modest,  and  He  is  fair  among  the  children  of 
men."2 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  there  was  no  such  person  as 
Lentulus,  no  such  office  as  president  of  the  people  of 
Jerusalem,  and  that  no  such  letter  was  ever  sent  to  the 
Roman  people.  It  is  in  fact  a  forgery,  not  older  than  the 
twelfth  century ;  but  it  is  probably  based  on  earlier  tradi- 
tions and  pictorial  representations  of  Christ,  and  has 
greatly  affected  the  pictures  of  later  artists. 

iii.  A  Greek  description  by  Epiphanius  Monachus  closely 
resembles  it.3  "  My  Christ  and  God,"  it  says,  "  was  beau- 
tiful exceedingly.  He  stood  six  perfect  feet  in  height. 
His  hair  was  long,  golden-coloured,  not  very  thick,  and 

that  Jesus  was  ugly.     He  says  that  He  resembled  the  Virgin,  and  Adam. 
Opp.  I.  630. 

1  "Nazarites"  is  meant. 

2  The  Latin  text  of  the  famous  description  is  not  found  earlier  than 
the  works  of  St.  Anselm  of  Canterbury. 

8  The  text  was  supplied  from  an  old  MS.  by  Tischendorf  to  Winer 
(Realworterb.  I.  576). 


PICTURES   AND   DESCRIPTIONS   OF   CHRIST.          85 

somewhat  curly.  His  eyebrows  were  black  and  not  very 
arched.  His  eyes  tawny-coloured  and  flashing.  He  re- 
sembled His  forefather  David,  who  was  ruddy  (jrvp POLKAS'), 
with  beautiful  eyes.1  His  face  resembled  His  mother's, 
and  was  slightly  flushed,  indicating  dignity,  wisdom,  and 
unruffled  gentleness.  In  all  respects  He  reflected  closely 
the  semblance  of  His  mother." 

Such  is  the  fundamental  conception  which  passed  across 
the  threshold  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  has  been  preserved 
to  the  times  of  the  dogmatic  writers  of  the  Lutheran 
Church.  Among  these  J.  B.  Carpzov  in  1777  reopened 
the  pages  of  these  old  descriptions,  "  with  all  the  old  inter- 
est, but  only  half  of  the  old  belief." 

1  1  Sam.  xvi.  12  :  TrvppaKtjs  pera  KciXXous  6cf>6a\fj.(av  KO.I  dyadbs  opdvei  Oetf, 
LXX.  Rufus  et  pulcher  aspectu  decoraque  facie.  Vulg. 


III. 


ATTEMPTED   POKTRAITS   OF   CHRIST. 

"  Ma  dice  nel  pensier,  fin  die  si  mostra ; 

Signer  mio,  Gesu  Cristo,  Dio  verace, 
Or  fu  si  fatta  la  sembianza  vostra?  " 

—  DANTE,  Farad.  XXXI.  106-108. 

ALTHOUGH,  as  we  have  seen,  the  early  Christians  re- 
garded with  extreme  disfavour  all  endeavours  to  delineate 

Christ  directly  as  He  was,  —  al- 
though they  even  looked  on  such 
attempts  as  illegal  and  profane,  — 
such  feelings  were  gradually  over- 
borne by  the  natural  longing  of 
mankind  for  visible  presentations 
of  One  Whom  they  reverenced  and 
adored.  That  such  a  longing  was 
but  natural  is  freely  admitted  by 
St.  Augustine. 
Accordingly,  there  are  some 

imaginary    portraits    of    Christ 

which    are  assigned   to   a  very 

early  date.     In  the  loss  of  all 

tradition,  they  could  not  be  other 

than  imaginary. 

The  first  woodcut  is  from  a 

mosaic  found  in  the  Catacombs, 

which    Aringhi    assigns   to   the 

first  century.     There  is  no  proof 

that  it  is  intended  for  our  Lord 

at  all,  and  I  must  confess  entire 

86 


Mosaic  of  Christ.     First  century. 


Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus.  Figures 
painted  in  a  circle  were  called  ima- 
gines clipeatae. 


ATTEMPTED   PORTRAITS   OF   CHRIST. 


87 


scepticism  as  to  the  early  dates  attributed  to  it,  and  to 
some  others  of  these  ancient  pictures.1 

The  second  is  the  famous  picture  in  the  Catacomb  of 
St.  Callistus.     It  has  now  practi- 
cally perished ;  it  is,  at  any  rate, 
almost  indistinguishable. 

The  next  is  also  from  the  same 
catacomb,  and  from  the  cubic u- 
lum  of  St.  Cecilia.  The  nimbus, 
the  deteriorating  art,  and  the 
overloaded  ornament,  prove  con- 
clusively that  it  is  not  older  than 
the  fourth  century. 

The  fourth  is  from  the  Cata- 
comb of  St.  Pontianus. 

The    next    is    from   an   ivory, 

perhaps   of   the   early  part  of   the  fifth  century,   in   the 

Vatican  Museum. 

It  will  be  observed  that 
all  these  are  bearded,  but 
all  are  meant  to  be  beauti- 
ful, and  to  retain  some  of 
the  charm  visible  in  the 
pictures  of  the  Good  Shep- 
herd. The  ugly,  bearded 
type  of  Byzantine  and  later 
Roman  art,  with  great  East- 
ern eyes,  black  and  fixed, 
and  vague,  of  which .  the 
expression  became  more 
stern  and  more  repellent, 
only  began  to  appear  as 

the  evil  ages  of  barbarism,  turbulence,  and  misery  rolled 
on  their  dreary  course.2 

1  "We  must  always  bear  in  mind  the  warning  of  Didron  :   "  Ces  monu- 
mens  sont  de  dates  tres  contestees  et  tres  contestables  "  (Icon.  Chret.  254). 

2  Lafenestre,  p.  26. 


88 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


We  may  observe,  generally,  that  the  representations  of 
Christ  follow  three  predominant  types  :  — 

1.    The  earlier,  which  is  youthful  and  beautiful,  is  espe- 
cially found  in  the  type  of   the  Good   Shepherd.     It  is 

remarkable  that  in  the  various 
Acts  of  the  Martyrs,  where 
visions  of  Christ  are  recorded, 
He  is  always  described  as  "ju- 
venis"  or  " vultu  juvenili."  l 

2.  The  second  type  is  full- 
grown,  with  short  beard,  but 
noble  and  dignified. 

3.  The  Byzantine  type  re- 
presents Jesus  as  aged,  worn, 
and    weary,    with    suffering 
mien   and   deep-set   eyes,    of 

which  a  specimen  has  been  given  from  an  ancient  ivory. 
It  frequently  recurs  in  the  mosaics.2 

1  Ruinart,  92,  211. 

2  See  Kraus,  Heal.  Encykl.  II.  24-26.     He  gives  a  long  list  of  examples. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  influence  of  Pagan  Art,  it  is  certain  that 
the  later  representations  were  in  nowise  affected  by  statues  of  ^Esculapius 
or  Jupiter. 


IV. 

MOSAICS. 

"  Toute  la  richesse  dont  1'art  Chretien  dispose  il  la  reserve  pour  I'intfe- 
rieur  des  sanctuaires."  —  PERATE,  UArcU.  Chret.,  178. 

As  the  art  of  fresco  declined  after  the  Peace  of  the 
Church  in  the  days  of  Constantino,  the  art  of  mosaic  rose 
into  splendour.  It  seems  to  have  started  into  vigorous 
life  in  the  fourth  century.1  The  presentation  of  sacred 
subjects  by  mosaic-work  must  be  largely  controlled  by  the 
stubborn  nature  of  the  '  material,  and  we  need  do  little 
more  than  glance  at  this  branch  of  early  Christian  Art. 

The  object  of  a  mosaic  is  to  be  effective  at  a  distance  as 
a  mural  decoration.  It  neglected  small  details,  and  placed 
strong  colours  side  by  side.  The  figures  stood  out  on 
backgrounds  of  blue  and  intense  gold,  and  were  depicted 
in  vivid  hues  ;  often  they  were  even  surrounded  by  a  black 
line  to  emphasize  the  contours.2 

Mosaics  were  used  to  a  small  extent  in  the  Catacombs  to 
decorate  more  than  one  arcosolium.  Boldetti  found  frag- 
ments of  stone  and  glass  in  the  cemeteries  of  Callistus,  of 
Prsetextatus,  and  of  St.  Agnes.  But  most  of  these  mosaics 
have  entirely  perished.  Little  is  left  before  the  fourth 
century  but  a  single  cock  which  once  decorated  the  tomb 
of  a  martyr.3 

In  the  fourth  century  mosaics  were  fixed  in  the  floor  of 
a  catacomb  discovered  in  1838,  and  said  to  have  been 

1  Kugler,  I.  20.  2  Bayet,  p.  60. 

3  Boldetti,  p.  210  ;  Aringhi,   II.   614  ;   Ferret,  IV.   PI.  VII.  3.     It  is 

given  in  Martigny,  s.v.  Coq. 


90 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 


founded  by  the  Empress  Helena.     The  first  basilicas  which 
were  decorated  with  mosaics  were  those  of  St.  Peter  and 

St.  Sylvester ;  and  Constan- 
tine  employed  mosaicists  at 
Constantinople  and  Jerusa- 
^em.1  The  Greek  influence 
was  predominant  in  mosaics 
from  their  earliest  origin. 

From  the  fifth  century  date 
some  of  the  superb  and  deeply 
interesting  mosaics  at  Raven- 
na, in  the  mausoleum  of  Galla 
Placidia,  the  Church  of  SS. 
Celsus  and  Nazarus,  and  in 
some  of  the  churches  at  Rome. 
At  this  epoch,  Christ  was  fre- 
quently represented  in  the 
central  apses  as  a  crowned 
lamb,  a  symbol  which  after- 
Avards  became  so  common 
that,  as  we  shall  see,  the  Quinisext  Council  discouraged 

1  The  Church  of  St.  Constantia,  at  Rome,  was  decorated  with  mosaics 
soon  after  the  Edict  of  Milan  (A.D.  313).     At  that  time  there  was  a  sort 
of  classic  revival  in  Christian  Art,  so  that  some  have  supposed  that  the 
Church  was  once  a  temple  of  Bacchus.     The  following  dates  may  be 
useful.     Fourth  century  —  Church  of  St.  Pudentiana :  — 
A.D.         402.    Honorius  transfers  to  Ravenna  the  capital  of  the  Empire. 
410.    Capture  of  Rome  by  Alaric. 
440.    Mosaics  of  Sta.  Maria  Maggiore. 
451.    Mosaics  of  tomb  of  Galla  Placidia. 
455.    Capture  of  Rome  by  Genseric  the  Vandal. 
465.    Mosaics  of  Baptistery  of  St.  John  Lateran. 
476.    Capture  of  Rome  by  Odoacer  the  Goth,  and  end  of  Western 

Empire. 

630.    Mosaics  of  SS.  Cosmo  and  Damian. 
539.   Recapture  of  Ravenna  from  the  Ostrogoths  by  Belisarius. 
Sixth  century  Mosaics  of  S.  Apollinare  Nuova  (570),  and  in 

Classe  (about  567),  and  of  San  Vitalis  at  Ravenna. 
717-842.    Struggles  against  Iconoclasts. 

729.  Letter  of  Gregory  II.  to  Leo  the  Isaurian. 


Wounded  and  nimbus-bearing  lamb. 
Sixth  century. 


MOSAICS.  91 

it.1  The  symbol  was  suggested  by  the  Apocalypse  :  "  The 
darkness  and  suffering  of  the  times  on  earth  seem  to  have 
forced  men  to  seek  comfort  in  imagination  of  the  glories 
of  the  world  to  come."  2 

To  the  sixth  century  belong  the  mosaics  at  Ravenna,  in 
the  churches  of  St.  Apollinaris  and  St.  Vitalis,  founded  by 
Justinian,  A.D.  541;  and  at  Rome  in  the  Church  of  SS. 
Cosmo  and  Daniian  (A.D.  530).  Those  in  the  St.  Sophia, 
at  Constantinople,  have  perished.3 

Brilliantly  coloured  copies  from  the  ancient  mosaics 
representing  Christ  may  be  seen  in  Mr.  Heaphy's  Like- 
ness of  Christ,  edited  for  the  S.  P.  C.  K.  by  Mr.  Wyke 
Bayliss.  It  should,  however,  be  remembered  that  most  of 
them  are  restorations.  "  The  drawing,"  he  says  (p.  73), 
"  was  always  faulty,  the  arrangement  of  the  groups  formal, 
and  too  exactly  balanced,  the  attitudes  stiff,  and  often 
repeated  ;  but  for  grandeur  of  the  original  conceptions,  for 
harmony  and  gorgeousness  of  colour,  and  often  for  intense 
power  of  expression,  many  of  these  productions  have  never 
been  surpassed."  He  further  notices  that  one  main  type  of 
features  is  given  to  our  Lord  in  all  the  great  mosaics,  and 
that  the  latter  and  softer  t}^pe  originates  with  the  Italian 
Renaissance,  and  perhaps  in  part  from  a  desire  to  make 
the  face  of  the  Saviour  reflect  that  of  His  Virgin  Mother. 

Augustine  tells  us  that,  even  in  his  day,  there  were 
"  innumerable  "  varying  portraits  of  Christ,  and  that  only 
one  of  these  could  possibly  resemble  Him.  It  matters 
not,  therefore,  he  says,  how  we  imagine  His  mortal  aspect, 
so  long  as  we  believe  in  His  miraculous  Incarnation.4 

1  In  the  Transfiguration  of  S.  Apollinare  in  Classe,  Peter  and  James 
and  John  are  represented  by  three  sheep  gazing  at  a  cross. 

2  Rev.  R.  St.  J.  Tyrwhitt,  Art  Teaching,  146.     "  In  the  larger  basilicas, 
where  a  transept  is  introduced  before  the  apsis,  it  is  divided  from  the 
nave  by  a  large  arch  called  the  Arch  of  Triumph.     In  this  case  the  sub- 
jects from  the  Apocalypse  were  '  usually  introduced  upon  this  '  Arch."  — 
Kugler.  I.  24. 

8  Many  specimens  are  given  by  Ciampini,  Vetera  Jtfonumenta,  Rome, 
1696. 

*  Aug.  De  Trin.  VIII.  4. 


V. 

YOUTHFUL  AND  BEARDED  PICTURES   OF  CHRIST. 

"  Such  as  in  His  face, 
Youth  smiled  celestial." 

—  MILTON. 

DOWN  to  the  fourth  century  Christ  is  usually  repre- 
sented as  young,  smiling,  radiantly  beneficent,  a  "gracious 
boy  of  fifteen,  with  sweet  and  rounded  figure,  resplendent 
with  blooming  youth."  He  is  thus  represented  on  the 
sarcophagi  of  the  fourth  century.  Although  the  ministry 
of  Jesus  began  at  the  age  of  thirty,  in  all  the  early  rep- 
resentations of  His  miracles  He  is  depicted  rather  as  a 
boy  than  as  a  man.  The  figure  of  the  bearded  Christ 
came  later,  and  the  two  are  often  seen  in  juxtaposition  as 
on  the  sarcophagus  of  Junius  Bassus,  shewing  clearly  that 
in  each  representation  a  symbol  was  involved.  This  sym- 
bolism is  indicated  on  a  fine  ivory  of  the  eleventh  century 
in  the  Royal  Library  at  Paris.  On  one  side  we  see  a 
Christ  youthful,  beardless,  and  beautiful,  seated  in  glory 
in  a  vesica  piscis  with  the  scroll  of  the  law  in  His  left 
hand,  and  giving  the  benediction  with  His  right ;  while 
on  the  obverse  we  have  a  Christ,  bearded  and  suffering  on 
the  cross.1  The  youthful  Christ  is  the  divine  Christ,  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever  ;  the  bearded  and  worn 
Christ  is  the  human  sufferer. 

1  This  ivory  is  given  in  Didron,  /con.,  pp.  276-278.  He  says  :  "C'est 
ainsi  que  Jesus  apparait  sculptfi  sur  les  sarcophages,  peint  sur  les  fresques 
et  dans  les  mosaiques.  Jesus  est  un  beau  jeune  homme  de  vingt  ans  ;  un 
gracieux  adolescent  de  quinze  sans  barbe,  la  figure  ronde  et  douce,  tout 
resplendissant  d'uue  jeunesse  divine." 

92 


YOUTHFUL  AXD  BEARDED  PICTURES  OF  CHRIST.     93 

The  youthful  representation  is  by  far  the  most  common 
from  the  second  to  the  tenth  century.  But  at  that  dread- 
ful epoch  all  men  thought  that  the  second  Advent  was  at 
hand,  and  many  bequeathed  their  lands  to  the  Church  on 
their  deathbeds  '•  appropinquante  fine  mundi."  A  sombre 
shadow  fell  over  all  religion.  The  Good  Shepherd  had 
ceased  to  represent  the  main  thoughts  about  the  Lord. 
Jesus  is  no  longer  the  loving  and  altogether  lovely,  who 
"  went  about  doing  good,"  but  sad  and  wrathful,  stern  and 
avenging,  who  hurls  ten  thousand  thunders  in  His  wrath 
against  the  wicked,  and  whose  very  sufferings  call  for 
vengeance  rather  than  plead  for  pity  on  behalf  of  man- 
kind. On  the  sarcophagi,  frescoes  and  mosaics  of  the 
earlier  centuries,  the  Christian  artists  set  forth  thousands 
of  times  His  miracles  of  mercy,  but  they  did  not  proceed 
so  far  as  His  passion.  They  never  represent  the  agony  in 
the  Garden,  and  in  the  scenes  of  His  last  hours  they  stop 
short  at  the  point  where  Pilate  washed  his  hands.1  In 
the  tenth  century  and  later  all  is  reversed.  Christ  is 
neither  the  Fair  Shepherd  nor  the  Good  Physician,  but  the 
bleeding  Victim  or  the  inexorable  Judge.  The  boyish 
face  which  smiles  on  us  in  the  Catacombs  has  altogether 
disappeared.  In  the  Middle  Ages  —  and  specially  when 
men  were  affected  by  the  view  that  Christ  never  laughed, 
which  appears  in  the  letter  of  the  Pseudo-Lentulus  —  the 
smiling  Son  of  Mary  is  all  but  unknown.  Christianity 
has  passed  its  radiant  spring,  and  entered  on  its  dark  and 
stormy  autumn.  The  Orpheus  of  the  Catacombs  has  given 
place  to  the  Rex  tremendce  Majestatis.  In  the  Greek  pic- 
tures on  Mount  Athos  He  is  represented  as  coming  out 
of  a  surge  of  vengeful  flame,  and  He  sits,  Mahomet-like, 
with  a  book  in  one  hand  and  a  drawn  sword  in  the  other. 
Such  feelings  culminate  in  the  Sistine  Judgment  by 
Michael  Angelo.  What  an  abyss  of  altered  sentiment 
divides  that  tumultuous  and  tempestuous  figure  from 

1  It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  long  series  of  mosaics  at  St.  Apolliuaris 
in  Ravenna,  the  Crucifixion  is  deliberately  passed  over. 


94 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


the  ideal  of  Christ  as  it  presented  itself  to  the   earlier 

centuries ! l 

In  a  later  section  of  this  book  the  reader  will  be  able  to 

see  specimens  of  the  treatment  of  the  Life  of  Christ  in  the 

Catacombs  after  the  accession  of  Constantine,  and  down 

to  the  epoch  of  fixed  Byzan- 
tinism  in  Art. 

It  will  be  observed  that 
among  them  all  there  is  no 
Crucifixion,  no  representa- 


Pagan  caricature.     Kircher  Museum. 


tion  of  Christ  in  anguish. 
The  earliest  allusion  to  the 

-?  XT  ^J  |  lia  Crucifixion  —  if  it  be  an 

*\/i*;  Nl  0  (  allusion,  for  this  is  highly 
disputable  —  is  the  insulting 
graffito  scrawled  on  a  wall  of 
the  Gelotian  House  under 
the  Palatine.  It  is  perhaps 
as  old  as  the  second  cen- 
tury, and  represents  a  man 

adoring  a  crucified  figure  with  an   ass's  head,  with  the 

inscription  "  Alexamenos  adores  his 

god."      We  know  from  Tertullian 

that  the  Christians  were  accused  of 

worshipping  a  figure  with  an  ass's 

head  to  which  was  given  the  name 

of   "the  god  Onokoites."      In   his 

address  to  the  Nations  (I.  14)  he 

says  that  an  infamous  and  apostate 

Jew    had    published    a    caricature 

against  the  Christians.     It  had  ass's 

ears,  and  one  foot  was  a  hoof;  it 

was  clad  in  a  toga,  and  had  a  book 

in  its  hand.     It  is  only  in  some  respects  that  the  Gelotian 

1  See  Didron,  Icon.,  pp.  257-269.  He  mentions  as  an  exception  the 
Beau  Dieu  de  Rheims  in  the  thirteenth  century,  but  he  says  that  Rheims 
has  an  altogether  exceptional  history  abounding  in  peculiarities. 


aimed  at  some  worship- 

per  of  Anubis,2  but  this    (»     \   \_       ~  A 


YOUTHFUL  AND  BEARDED  PICTURES  OF  CHRIST.     95 

graffito,  which  was  discovered  in  1856,  and  is  now  in  the 
Collegio  Romano,  resembles  the  figure  which  Tertullian 
describes.1 

Many  have  supposed  that  the  insulting  scrawl  is  really 

i 

(»  (  \   \_ 

does  not  seem  probable.  xT"  i 

In  another  chamber  was  Jl  S  ^  '    'V   C) 

/     )   /"  \^ 

found,    by    Visconti    in  £ 

1870,  the  very  interest- 

ing  inscription,  "Alexamenos  is  faithful,"  as  though  the 

brave  neophyte  was  in  nowise  cowed  by  the  insult  of  his 

heathen  comrades. 

1  See  De  Rossi,  Bulletin,  1864,  p.  72.  Stefanone,  Gemmae,  Venice, 
1G44,  tab.  30. 

-  The  Christians  were  called  Asinarii,  and  the  Jews  were  also  accused 
by  the  heathen  of  worshipping  an  ass,  which  was  mixed  up  with  legends 
of  their  history.  Tac.  Hist.  V.  ;  Plut.  Sympos.  IV.  5.  2  ;  Diod.  Sic. 
XXXIV.  from  Jos.  c.  Ap.  II.  7.  As  regards  the  Christians,  see  Tert. 
c.  Natt.  I.  14  ;  ApoJ.  XVI.  ;  Min.  Fel.  Oct.  9.  28.  See  Martigny,  s.v. 
Calamities  ;  Mamachi,  Aut.  Christ.  I.  130.  Diet.  Christ.  Autt.  s.v.  Asi- 
narii. Renan,  L1  Antechrist,  p.  40. 


BOOK  III. 

FKOM  BYZANTINE  ART   TO  THE   RENAISSANCE. 


'  We  can  only  discern  spiritual  nature  so  far  as  we  are  like  it." 


I. 

BYZANTINE   ART. 

"Artes  desidia  perdidit,  et  quoniam  animorum  imagines  non  sunt, 
negliguntur  etiam  corporum. ' '  —  PLIN.  H.  N.  xxxv.  2. 

"  A  mes  yeux  la  pens6e  disciplined  ne  vaut  pas  la  pense'e  libre.  Ce  que 
j'aper^ois  a  travers  une  ceuvre  d'art  comme  a  travers  toute  ceuvre,  c'est 
l'£tat  de  Paine  qui  1'a  produite."  —  Rio. 

No  definite  date  can  be  assigned  for  the  beginning  of 
Byzantine  Art,  which  is  the  name  given  to  the  special 
development  of  Art  in  the  Eastern  Empire,  and  at  its 
capital,  Byzantium,  from  the  fifth  century  onwards.  It  is 
difficult  to  distinguish  between  Byzantine  Art  and  the  later 
art  of  the  West,  and  it  is  assumed,  rather  than  proved,  by 
Didron  that  some  of  the  Italian  mosaics  (those  of  St.  Vitalis 
at  Ravenna)  were  the  work  of  Greek  monks  from  Mount 
Athos. 

"But  after  the  seventh  century,"  says  Kugler,  "there 
occurred  a  division  in  the  schools  of  painting.  Those 
artists  who  persevere  exclusively  in  the  old  track  may  be 
observed  to  sink  into  barbaric  ignorance  of  form,  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  for  mosaics  and  all  kinds  of  decorative 
work,  the  style  and  material  of  Byzantine  Art  came  into 
vogue.  The  more  important  Italian  works  of  the  seventh 
and  later  centuries  follow  the  Byzantine  style,  while  the 
lesser  class  of  works  (such  as  miniatures)  seem  occasionally 
at  least  to  run  wild  in  an  utter  license  of  style  which  may 
be  called  Longobardian.  Yet  in  these  apparently  formless 
productions  of  conventionality,  as  opposed  to  the  more 
Byzantine  rigorism,  there  lay  a  germ  of  freedom  from  which 
a  new  development  was  to  spring." 

99 


100  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Byzantine  Art  assumed  its  fixed  peculiarities  in  the 
Eastern  Empire  during  the  reign  of  Justinian  (A.D.  527- 
565).  Byzantium  was  undisturbed  by  barbarian  invasion, 
and  Art  was  encouraged  by  the  Court  and  by  the  Church. 
Its  strength  lay  in  its  adhesion  to  the  same  old  classic 
traditions  which  had  inspired  the  early  artists  of  the  Cata- 
combs, and  which  in  time  brought  back  the  great  painters 
of  the  Renaissance  to  skilful  naturalism  as  well  as  to  noble 
idealization.  Its  utter  weakness  lay  in  the  lack  of  spon- 
taneity and  progress.  This  was  due  to  ecclesiastical 
tyranny  in  an  empire  in  which  literature  was  dead,  and 
liberty  undreamed  of. 

An  important  moment  in  the  history  of  Art  was  produced 
by  the  Council  of  Constantinople,  held  in  691.  It  is  called 
the  Quinisext  Council,  because  it  was  in  some  sort  supple- 
mentary to  the  Fifth  and  Sixth  Councils  of  Constantinople, 
in  which  no  canons  of  discipline  were  passed.  It  is  better 
known  as  the  Council  in  Trullo,  because  it  was  held  in 
the  trullus  or  domed  chapel  of  the  palace.  The  82d  of 
its  102  canons,  in  direct  antithesis  to  the  spirit  of  the 
old  canon  of  the  Council  of  Elvira  (about  A.D.  300), 
decreed  "that  henceforth  Christ  was  to  be  publicly  ex- 
hibited (amo-r^AoOo-flat)  in  the  figure  of  a  man,  not  of  a 
lamb."  After  vindicating  the  beauty  of  the  old  symbol  as 
a  sort  of  adumbration  of  the  truth,  and  as  indicating  "  the 
Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world,"  the 
assembled  Fathers  decreed  that  henceforth  the  picture  is 
to  supersede  the  emblem,  that  "  we  may  be  led  to  remember 
Christ's  conversation  in  the  flesh,  and  His  passion,  and 
saving  death,  and  the  redemption  which  He  wrought  for 
the  world."  1  "  Patres  voluerunt  cessare  typos,'1''  says  Ca- 
ranzas,  "praesente  veritate." 

At  the  same  time,  and  for  the  same  reasons,  they  forbade 
the  painting  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  a  dove,  and  of  the  Magi 
under  the  symbol  of  a  star. 

This  decree  shewed  a  twofold  reversal  of  ancient  feeling. 

i  Labbe,  Concilia,  VI.  1124. 


BYZANTINE   ART.  101 

It  marked  the  final  evaporation  of  all  trace  of  the  old 
reserve  which  Christians  had  felt  in  figuring  the  Person  of 
Christ ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  it  indicated  as  fit  themes 
for  Art  those  sufferings  in  the  flesh,  from  the  representations 
of  which  the  Christians  of  the  earlier  centuries  had  shrunk 
as  from  a  profanation.  Both  tendencies  were  further  em- 
phasized in  the  letter  addressed  in  729 1  by  Pope  Gregory  II. 
to  Leo  the  Isaurian.  In  this  famous  document  the  Pope 
speaks  of  the  scenes  of  Christ's  Passion  —  His  TraOr^a-ra  — 
as  subjects  which  may  and  ought  to  be  depicted  on  the  walls 
of  churches.  Up  to  that  time  the  best  ancient  feeling  both 
of  Pagans  and  Christians  had  been  in  favour  of  repose  and 
beauty  as  alone  suitable  to  Art.  The  faces  in  the  early 
Catacombs,  even  when  a  little  sad,  are  always  tender  and 
peaceful.  Martyrdoms  were  never  painted  even  amid  the 
tombs  of  martyrs.  In  spite  of  feeble  technique,  the  im- 
perishable reminiscence  of  beauty  survived  in  the  young, 
noble,  radiant  figures  there  portrayed.  "  Everywhere  in 
the  realm  of  terror  were  images  of  joy  and  hope.  It  took 
several  centuries  for  the  Italian  imagination,  amid  the 
misery  of  barbarian  invasions,  to  reconcile  itself  to  terrible 
figures  and  blood-stained  scenes."  The  true  ancestors  of 
Giotto,  Masaccio,  Fra  Angelico,  and  Raphael  precede  the 
long  night  of  ignorance  and  woe.  They  sleep  in  those 
abandoned  cemeteries  in  which  painting  and  all  the  other 
arts  seemed  to  have  been  buried  under  ruins  and  despair. 

Leo  the  Isaurian,  known  as  the  Iconoclast,  "a  martial 
peasant,"  stung  by  the  taunts  levelled  at  the  Christians  by 
Jews  and  Mahometans,  wished  to  suppress  by  an  imperial 
edict  (A.D.  726)  the  adoration  of  pictures,  and  ordered  that 
they  should  be  hung  so  high  that  no  one  could  kiss  or 
worship  them.  In  728  he  tried  to  forbid  them  altogether. 
This  attempt  awoke  the  fury  of  the  monks,  of  women,  and 
of  the  mob,  and  Pope  Gregory  II.  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  opposition.  The  revolt  broke  out  when  a  crowd  of 
women  flung  down  the  imperial  officer  whom  Leo  had 
1  This  is  the  date  given  by  Muratori. 


102  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

ordered  to  remove  a  much-venerated  figure  of  Christ,  which 
hung  over  the  gate  of  the  imperial  palace. 

Coustantine  V.,  son  of  Leo,  came  to  the  throne  in  741, 
and  then  Byzantine  Art  produced  its  martyrs.  At  a  coun- 
cil in  754,  after  six  months'  deliberation,  pictures  were 
declared  by  the  338  bishops  of  his  party  to  be  "a  blas- 
phemy against  the  fundamental  dogma  of  our  salvation, 
the  Incarnation  of  Christ,"  and  it  was  asserted  that  "  for 
lucre  the  soiled  hands  of  artists  debased  Christ's  Majesty." 
Painting  even  of  saints  and  of  the  Virgin  was  declared  to 
be  a  reversion  to  Pagan  image  worship.  Leo  IV.  (775-780) 
was  less  fanatical ;  and  in  the  Second  Council  of  Nice,  787, 
the  Empress  Irene  caused  the  decree  of  754  to  be  revoked, 
and  the  assembled  Fathers  once  more  permitted  the  multi- 
tude to  kiss  images  and  pictures  and  prostrate  themselves 
before  them.  Leo  the  Armenian  (813-820)  again  favoured 
the  Iconoclasts,  and  Theophilus  (829-832)  even  endeav- 
oured to  close  all  monasteries.1  His  widow  Theodora,  as 
regent  for  his  son  (who  was  only  three  years  old),  founded 
the  "  Feast  of  Orthodoxy  "  in  honour  of  the  restoration  of 
images  and  their  worship.2 

Iconoclasm  lasted  for  more  than  a  century.  The  furious 
Council  of  842  held  at  Constantinople  marked  its  final  ruin. 
Iconoclasm  was  anathematized,  and  the  decrees  of  the  Sec- 
ond Council  of  Nice,  which  had  in  787  definitely  sanctioned 
pictures  and  images,  were  confirmed.  At  this  epoch  "the 
last  relics  of  freedom  and  nature  disappeared  from  Byzan- 
tine works."  At  the  same  time  scenes  of  martyrdom  and 
of  Christ's  sufferings  first  began  to  be  generally  introduced. 
This  closes  the  period  of  early  Christian  Art.3  Henceforth 
we  begin  to  find  "rigid  figures  of  a  stern  and  repellent 
Christ,  in  the  midst  of  hideous  passions,  and  abominable 

1  The  monk  Lazarus  became,  in  this  reign,  a  martyr  of  religious  art. 
He  continued  to  paint  pictures  for  adoration  in  spite  of  having  been 
beaten  almost  to  death,  and  his  hands  maimed  by  red-hot  iron. 

2  See  Gibbon,  IV.  468-477  ;  Bayet,  IS  Art  Byzantin,  108-113. 

3  Labbe,  Concilia  VII.  833. 


BYZANTINE  ART.  103 

martyrdoms,  set  forth  with  savage  brutality  by  feelingless 
barbarians."1  How  different  are  these  from  the  sweet, 
familiar,  hopeful  scenes  of  miracle  and  of  mercy  which 
inspired  the  artists  of  the  Catacombs ! 

But  if  the  Church  gave  a  new  motive  and  impulse  to 
Art  by  sanctioning  subjects  which  the  feelings  of  Christians 
had  hitherto  forbidden,  or  severely  limited,  on  the  other 
hand  she  paralyzed  the  further  progress  of  Art  by  a  severe 
control.  She  insisted  that  henceforth  sacred  Art  should 
not  be  natural,  but  traditional,  hieratic,  and  conventional. 
Hence  the  study  of  nature  ceased,  and  Painting  first  became 
stereotyped,  and  then  declined.  Technical  skill  was  re- 
garded as  more  than  sufficient,  and  mechanical  reproduc- 
tions took  the  place  of  free  and  imaginative  treatment. 
The  chief  thing  which  attracted  admiration  and  received 
reward  was  gorgeous  colouring  and  the  lavish  expenditure 
of  gold  in  the  background  and  accessories.  In  the  Second 
Nicene  Council  (A.D.  787)  images  had  been  expressly  de- 
fended on  the  ground  that  neither  invention  (e^evpeo-t?) 
nor  composition  (Smraft?)  were  allowed  to  the  painter, 
but  only  manual  skill  (jG^vrf)^  under  stringent  obedience 
to  the  dictation  of  the  clergy  and  what  they  laid  down  as 
the  rule  and  tradition  (^dea/jLodea-La  real  TrapaSoai^  of  the 
Catholic  Church.2 

The  Church  would  never  have  ventured  thus  to  dictate 
to  Art  in  the  days  of  its  living  impulses ;  or  if  she  had  done 
so,  would  have  been  deservedly  defeated,  for  mistaking  her 

1  Lafenestre,  p.  37.    The  earliest  known  painting  of  a  crucifixion  is  in 
a  Syriac  Gospel,  which  may  be  seen  in  the  Laurentian  Library  at  Florence, 
written  by  the  priest  Rabula  in  586  at  the  monastery  of  St.  John  Zagba  in 
Mesopotamia.     The  Crucifixion  could  not  be  painted  until  (among  other 
changes)  the  punishment  had  been  abolished  and  the  classic  feeling  had 
utterly  died  out.     A  copy  of  this  illumination  is  given  infra.  —  Woltmann 
and  Woermann,  History  of  Painting,  I.  196. 

2  Byzantine  Art  seems  to  have  had  only  two  reviving  impulses  before  it 
entered  on  its  long  senescence.     One  was  in  the  ninth  century  ;  another, 
a  very  brief  one,  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades.  —  Bayet,  U  Art  Byzantine, 

•  117. 


104  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 

duty  and  message.  She  attempted  in  later  ages  even  in 
the  West  to  make  painters  feel  the  weight  of  her  control, 
but  by  no  means  with  success.  Three  splendid  pictures  — 
the  great  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  by  Sandro  Botticelli 
now  in  the  National  Gallery,  the  Annunciation  by  Timoteo 
Viti  at  Milan,  and  the  Marriage  of  Cana  in  G-alilee  by  Paul 
Veronese  —  incurred  the  displeasure  of  clerics  and  inquisi- 
tors. The  former  picture  was  supposed  to  teach  an  hereti- 
cal view  of  the  relation  of  men  to  angels ;  the  second  was 
absurdly  interpreted  as  a  reflexion  on  Christ's  immaculate 
conception ;  the  latter  did  undoubtedly  introduce  trivial 
accessories  into  a  sacred  theme.  But  later  priestly  inter- 
ferences had  no  influence  whatever  on  the  development 
of  Art,  and  not  one  of  these  pictures  was  altered  by  the 
painters. 

i.  Under  the  dominance  of  priests,  Byzantine  Art 
became  a  thing  of  trick  and  mannerism,  "a  luxuriously 
conducted  handicraft."  Absence  of  thought  was  concealed 
by  gaudiness  and  expensiveness  of  materials.  "The  hag- 
gard, morose  figures,  with  their  brick-red  and  olive-coloured 
flesh-tones,"  says  Kugler,  "look,  as  may  be  supposed,  only 
the  more  wretched  on  this  account."  And  this  style  of 
Art  infected  and  almost  dominated  the  West  as  well  as  the 
East,  because  artists  had  well-nigh  perished  from  Italy  in 
the  successive  storms  of  barbarian  invasion.  St.  Mark's 
at  Venice  (976-1085)  is  absolutely  Byzantine.  When 
Abbot  Desiderius  (in  1075)  restored  Monte  Cassino,  he 
sent  for  Byzantine  artists.  At  Rome,  however,  men  still 
possessed  the  relics  of  antiquity.  These  assert  their  influ- 
ence in  the  twelfth  century  mosaics,  of  San  Clemente  and 
Santa  Maria,  in  Trastevere,  which  indicate  a  certain  re- 
action against  Byzantine  dogmatism.1  But  in  the  Eastern 
Empire  the  inheritance  of  antiquity  was  exhausted  and  was 
unfructified  by  the  spirit  of  new  work.  To  this  day  at 
Mount  Athos,  and  in  Russia,  sacred  Art  remains  at  ex- 
actly the  same  stage  as  in  the  days  of  Justinian,  except 

1  Bayet,  I? Art  Byzantine,  105. 


BYZANTIXE   ART.  105 

that  it  becomes  ever  more  and  more  soulless  and  me- 
chanical. These  arrested  types,  this  fidelity  to  a  few 
dominant  conceptions,  may  have  a  conventional  sacred- 
ness,  but  the  pictures  which  crowd  Greek  churches  can  be 
turned  out  by  the  thousand  without  the  slightest  expendi- 
ture of  thought  and  effort.1  Painting,  such  as  it  is,  has 
sunk  into  a  manual  mechanism,  because  it  has  been  reduced 
for  many  centuries  to  an  inflexible  system.  Its  entire 
method  and  treatment  was  laid  down  in  the  Explanation  of 
Painting  (^Ep^veia  rrjs  £&>7/9a$tK%)  drawn  up  by  Dio- 
nysius,  a  monk  of  Furna  d'Agrapha,  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, in  accordance  with  the  practice  of  the  monkish  artist 
Manuel  Panselinos.  It  has  been  published  by  Didron 
under  the  title  of  Manuel  d' '  Iconographie  Chr£tienne,  from 
a  manuscript  which  he  obtained  at  Mount  Athos  in  1839. 
The  manual  is  dedicated  "  to  Mary,  Mother  of  God,  and 
ever  Virgin,"  and  is  a  curious  sepulchre  in  which  Byzantine 
Art  buried  every  resemblance  to  nature  and  every  impulse 
of  originality.  The  remark  made  by  Pliny  the  Elder  in 
describing  the  dying  Art  of  Rome  applies  no  less  to  the 
Art  of  Byzantium,  "since  artists  could  no  longer  paint 
souls,  they  neglected  also  to  paint  bodies."  2 

ii.  Byzantine  Art  was  subjected  not  only  to  the  benumb- 
ing touch  of  conventionality  dictated  by  ignorant  ecclesi- 
astics, but  also  to  the  paralyzing  curse  of  an  unnatural, 
unscriptural,  and  destructive  asceticism.  The  chief  painters 
were  not  simply  monks,  but  monks  utterly  perverted  from 
the  gladness  and  simplicity  of  the  Gospel  by  the  imaginary 
merits  of  an  enfeebling  self-maceration.  Asceticism,  as 
understood  by  the  Hermits,  Stylites,  and  many  classes  of 
coenobites,  was  the  pernicious  caricature  of  the  virtue  of 
habitual  temperance.  It  was  directly  injurious  to  the 
very  self-control  which  it  was  supposed  to  foster.  It 
reduced  life  to  a  paralysis  of  useless  misery.  It  degraded 
the  body ;  it  weakened  the  will ;  it  poisoned  the  imagina- 
tion ;  it  damped  the  spirit ;  it  increased  to  fury  the  stings 

1  Lafenestre,  p.  43.  2  Plin.  H.N.  XXXV.  2. 


106  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

of  animal  passion.  So  far  from  weakening  the  force  of 
carnal  temptation,  it  increased  it  tenfold,  and  no  one  can 
read  the  lives  of  the  more  extravagant  ascetics,  with  the 
vast  space  occupied  in  them  by  struggles  against  man's 
lower  nature,  without  seeing  that  they  had  ignorantly 
intensified  their  own  moral  hindrances,  and  rendered  life 
for  themselves  more  difficult  and  less  blessed.  The  sim- 
plest knowledge  of  physiology  would  have  taught  them 
that  the  way  to  conquer  impulse  is  to  empty  the  soul  of 
evil  imaginations  by  filling  it  with  active  graces ;  and  that 
the  surest  course  to  render  appetite  intractable  was  mor- 
bidly to  brood  upon  it  in  the  disorders  of  a  weakened 
frame.  Asceticism  itself  never  made  a  single  saint.  If 
some  saints  grew  up  under  its  unnatural  tension,  more 
saints  and  better  ones  would  have  grown  up  had  the  same 
sincerity  and  self-denial  been  applied  with  greater  wisdom. 
And  certainly  asceticism  made  many  frightful  sinners,  as 
may  be  sufficiently  proved  by  overwhelming  evidence  from 
the  days  of  St.  Jerome  to  those  of  St.  Peter  Damiani,  and 
from  his  da,ys  down  to  our  own.  Francis  of  Assisi,  before 
he  died,  saw  the  error  of  unnatural  self-torment,  and  said, 
"I  have  sinned  against  my  brother  the  ass."  The  poor 
Cure"  d'Ars  spoke  of  himself  as  "  this  corpse."  To  regard 
the  body  at  all  as  "  ce  cadavre  "  is  an  absolute  perversion. 
It  is  not  a  corpse,  but  the  shrine  of  noble  life ;  not  a  tomb, 
but  a  temple.  If  ascetics  were  ignorant  of  the  simplest 
laws  of  nature,  they  might  have  read  in  their  Bibles  the 
warning  of  St.  Paul  that  ordinances  of  "  touch  not,  taste 
not,  handle  not,"  referring  as  they  do  to  mere  material 
and  perishable  matters,  after  the  precepts  and  doctrines  of 
men,  "  have  indeed  a  show  of  wisdom  in  will-worship,  and 
humility,  and  severity  to  the  body ;  but  are  not  of  any 
value  against  the  indulgence  of  the  flesh." 1 

In  the  wake  of  this  unnatural  and  unscriptural  asceti- 

1  Col.  ii.  23.  The  Revised  Version  first  enabled  English  readers  to 
attach  any  intelligible  meaning  to  this  passage,  and  to  grasp  its  needful 
warning  against  mere  outward  austerities. 


BYZANTIXE   ART.  107 

cism  came  pride,  arrogance,  boundless  ambition,  intense 
self-will,  intolerable  bigotry  and  bitterness,  narrow  exclu- 
siveness,  immense  self-assertion,  and  all  those  symptoms  of 
a  perverted,  sacerdotal,  and  formalizing  religionism,  which 
have  ever  proved  themselves  to  be  the  curse  of  nations,  and 
the  subversion  of  the  pure  and  wholesome  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And,  among  other  things,  asceticism  helped  to  ruin 
Art.  "  In  the  types,"  says  Professor  Woltmann,  "  every- 
thing has  given  way  to  typical  blankness.  The  charm  of 
youth,  the  grace  of  womanhood,  the  energy  and  resolve  of 
manhood,  have  disappeared.1  The  solemn  figures  of  saints 
appear  with  gloomy  and  morose  countenances,  devoid  of 
all  true  human  feeling;  in  the  phrase  of  Kugler,  'inca- 
pable of  any  exercise  of  moral  will ' ;  until  at  last  ideal 
sainthood  is  travestied  in  the  murky  nightmares  of  Zur- 
baran.  The  glorious  classic  type  is  swallowed  up  in 
ugliness.  The  forehead  is  high,  bald,  and  often  deeply 
wrinkled,2  the  eyes  fixed,  staring,  and  in  course  of  time 
mere  ugly  slits.  The  nose  is  long  and  broad,  the  lights 
on  forehead  and  cheekbone  stand  abruptly  out.  The 
mouth  is  small,  but  without  vivacity,  without  the  charms 
of  a  mouth  that  can  speak ;  the  underlip  is  pushed  up 
with  an  expression  full  of  arrogance.'  "  3  "  It  is  curious  to 
remark,"  says  Kugler,  "how  one  portion  of  the  figure 
after  another  now  became  rigid  —  the  joints,  the  extremi- 
ties, and  at  last  even  the  countenance,  which  assumed  a 
morose,  stricken  expression.  .  .  .  The  figures  are  long 
and  meagre,  the  action  stiff  and  angular,  hands  and  feet 
attenuated  and  powerless.  .  .  .  The  Byzantine  artist  was 

1  A  religion  which  neglects  or  crushes  the  inherent  and  God-given 
sense  of  beauty  must  be  tainted  with  corruption.     Lessing  truly  says : 
"  Nur  die  missverstandene  Religion  kann  uns  von  dem  schonen  entfernen, 
und  es  ist  ein  Beweis  fur  die  richtig  verstandene  wahre  Religion,  wenn 
sie  uns  uberall  auf  das  schone  zuriichfuhrt." 

2  "A  deep,  unhappy  line,  in  which  ill-humour  seems  to  have  taken  up 
its  permanent  abode,  extends  from  brow  to  brow,  beneath  the  bald  and 
heavily  wrinkled  forehead."  — Kugler,  I.  53. 

3  "Woltmann  and  "Woermann,  I.  230. 


108  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

opposed  to  the  usual  enjoyments  of  life.  His  art  par- 
takes of  the  same  feeling,  inasmuch  as  he  substitutes  his 
individual  ideal  for  that  which  is  universal  in  human 
nature."  1 

Byzantinism,  then,  —  which  reflects  the  consequences  of 
clerical  dominance  over  Art,  —  means  a  sudden  arrest 
of  all  spontaneity  of  genius,  a  stereotyped  nullity,  or  frost- 
bound  superstition.  It  paralyzed  both  the  power  and  the 
joy  of  Art.  It  degraded  the  treatment,  and  filled  the  sub- 
jects so  treated  with  horror  and  misery.  In  the  early 
days  of  Christianity  the  artists  had  felt  themselves  drawn 
to  all  that  was  sweet,  pure,  peaceful,  and  tender.  Paint- 
ing delighted  in  flowers,  and  trees,  and  spring,  and  still 
waters.  It  delighted  to  paint  heaven  as  a  lovely  garden 
wherein  happy  souls  wandered  amid  green  pastures  in  the 
Paradise  of  joy,  by  the  waters  of  Comfort,  whence  grief, 
and  groaning,  and  sorrow  are  banished  far.  The  creeping 
atrophy  of  ecclesiastical  usurpation,  tainted  by  a  morbid 
asceticism,  abolished  all  this  natural  gladness,  and  brought 
into  its  place  an  unnatural  ugliness,  and  an  unspiritual 
gloom.  Byzantine  sacerdotalism  seems  utterly  to  have 
lost  sight  of  the  truth  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  peace 
and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 

1  Kugler,  Handbook  of  Painting,  3d  ed.  I.  20. 


II. 

MARGARITONE   OF   AREZZO    (A.D.  1216-1293). 

"  Margaritone  of  Arezzo, 

With  the  grave-clothes  garb,  and  swaddling  barret,  — 
Why  purse  up  mouth  and  beak  in  a  pet  so, 
You  bald,  old,  saturnine,  poll-clawed  parrot  ?  — 
Not  a  poor,  glimmering  Crucifixion, 
Where  hi  the  foreground  kneels  the  donor  ? ' ' 

—  BROWNING. 

BYZANTINE  painting,  long  doomed  to  sterility  by  a  pe- 
dantic tyranny,  and  to  ugliness  by  a  slavish  maltreatment 
of  the  body,  lived  on  as  a  purely  mechanical  art,  which 
could  derive  no  fresh  breath  of  inspiration,  because  all 
appeal  to  nature  was  suppressed.  It  was  only  nourished 
—  if  a  mummy  can  be  said  to  be  nourished  —  by  old  tra- 
ditions. No  true  artist  can  work  under  dictation  or  in 
chains.  Yet,  Byzantine  Art  survived  in  its  bedridden 
impotence  for  nearly  a  millennium,  and  it  still  multiplies 
its  interminable  nullities  in  the  Eastern  Church. 

Even  Italian  Art  until  the  thirteenth  century  was  more 
or  less  under  the  tyranny  of  the  Byzantine  method  and 
tradition.  But  the  Western  artist  always  possessed  and 
claimed  the  power  to  introduce  at  least  some  marks  of 
individuality,  if  not  into  the  general  outlines  of  the  com- 
position, at  least  into  detail  and  expression. 

We  are  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  in  our  almost  unri- 
valled National  Gallery  an  Italian  painting  which  may  be 
taken  to  represent  the  all  but  expiring  grasp  of  Byzantin- 
ism  on  the  free  artistic  life  of  the  West.1  It  is  the  Virgin 

!Nat.  Gall.  No.  1149. 
109 


110  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

and  Child,  with  scenes  from  the  lives  of  the  Saints,  by  Mar- 
garitone  of  Arezzo,  and  is  his  most  important  work.  It 
is  painted,  as  Vasari  says,  alia  Gf-reca,  and  is  the  more 
precious  as  being  probably  the  best  characteristic  effort  of 
a  painter,  architect,  and  sculptor,  most  of  whose  other 
paintings  have  perished  at  Arezzo,  and  also  at  Rome 
where  he  decorated  the  old  portico  of  St.  Peter's  for 
Urban  IV.  It  is  signed  "  Margarit  de  Aritio  me  fecit." 

Margaritone  di  Magnano  was  born  in  1216,  about  twenty- 
four  years  before  Cimabue,  with  whom  he  was  acquainted, 
but  by  whose  great  movement  he  was  uninfluenced.  Vasari 
says  that  he  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-seven,  weary  of 
life  (infastidito^),  because  he  had  outlived  the  ideals  of  his 
youth,  and  saw  them  superseded  by  new  methods  which 
overleapt  the  sacred  barriers  of  traditionalism.  Indeed,  he 
regarded  those  new  methods  as  a  sacrilege  in  Art,  no  less 
culpable  than  heresy  in  dogma.1  Poor  Margaritone  need 
not,  however,  have  been  so  much  disheartened.  It  is 
never  the  exquisite  loveliness  of  some  Raphaelesque 
Madonna  that  the  multitudes  adore  as  sacred.  It  is 
invariably  some  swarthy  relic  of  Byzantine  Art  on  gold 
ground  and  in  glaring  colours.  There  still  exists  in  the 
Museum  at  Berlin  a  Pieta2  by  no  less  an  artist  than 
Giovanni  Bellini,  which  for  devotional  purposes  has  abso- 
lutely been  repainted  into  the  Byzantine  style.  Byzantine 
ideals  were  alone  called  "  sacred  pictures  "  by  the  popu- 
lace, and  "to  this  day  in  Naples  a  lemonade-seller  will 
allow  none  but  a  Byzantine  Madonna  with  olive-green 
complexion  and  veiled  head  to  be  painted  up  in  his 
booth."  3  "  We  here  stand,"  says  Kugler,  "  upon  ground 
to  which  Titian  and  Ribera  with  all  their  influence  have 
never  penetrated." 

1  Eio,  De  VArt  Chretien,  I.  26. 

2  Monkhouse,  The  Italian  Pre-Raphaelites,  p.  9.     The  name,  Pieta,  is 
given  to  representations  of  the  dead  Christ,  mourned  by  his  mother. 

3  La  fide'lite'  a  des  types  arrete's,  a  des  conceptions  mattresses  et  peu 
nombreuses  est  un  trait  commun  a  toutes  les  religions."  —  Bayet,  p.  105. 


MARGARITOXE  OF   AREZZO.  Ill 

Even  Guido,  long  after  the  Renaissance  had  achieved 
its  most  splendid  triumphs,  admitted  with  true  instinct 
that  neither  he,  nor  any  painter  of  his  age,  could  really 
equal  the  superhuman  characteristics  of  modesty  and 
holiness  which  the  prayer,  the  holiness,  and  the  devout 
intensity  of  Lippo  di  Dalmasio  —  known  as  Lippo  of  the 
Madonnas  —  put  into  pictures  which  are  but  infantile  in 
capacity,  and  fail  entirely  to  express  human  beauty.1  No 
one  would  pause  before  the  finest  Madonna  of  Guido  and 
say  that  it  touched  his  heart,  as  Clement  VIII.  said  of 
Lippo's  picture  in  the  Church  of  San  Procolo  in  Bologna. 
Guido  himself  used  to  stand  entranced  before  this  ancient 
daub,  and  attribute  its  spell  to  some  secret  inspiration 
which  he  could  not  catch. 

Margaritone's  picture  is  exactly  one  of  those  which  we 
see  visitors  to  the  National  Gallery  pass  with  contemptu- 
ous indifference.  Their  disdain  would  be  changed  into 
eager  interest  if  they  knew  its  preciousness  in  the  history 
of  Art.  It  is  painted  in  tempera  on  linen  cloth  stretched 
over  wood 2  and  was  meant  far  less  to  please  than  to 
teach,  far  less  to  be  admired  than  to  be  adored.  The 
design  of  the  painter  was  to  "  express  fixed  and  unaltera- 
ble truth  by  fixed  and  unalterable  images." 

The  Virgin  is  not  a  mortal  woman,  but  a  type  of  the 
"  Mother  of  God."  She  sits  motionless,  in  a  richly  em- 
broidered robe,  on  a  throne  of  which  the  arms  are,  prob- 
ably for  some  symbolic  reason,  supported  by  highly 
conventional  lions.  Her  head-dress  is  surrounded  by 
fleurs-de-lys,  the  symbols  of  light  and  purity.  Her  hair, 
as  in  all  the  earlier  religious  pictures,  is  entirely  covered. 
For  the  Virgin  to  shew  her  hair,  and  for  an  artist  to  paint 
it,  would  have  been  regarded  as  a  profanation.  Evil 

1  \Ve  have  one  Madonna  by  the  Bolognese  painter,  Lippo  dalle  Madonne 
(1376-1410)  in  our  National  Gallery,  No.  725. 

'2  Margaritone  is  the  probable  author  of  the  great  invention  of  painting 
on  prepared  canvas,  of  which  this  picture  furnishes  evidence.  (Poynter, 
Italian  Painting,  p.  59.) 


112  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

Spirits  (shedini)  were  supposed  at  once  to  take  their  seat 
on  any  woman's  uncovered  head,  and  in  all  public  places  she 
was  to  keep  her  head  covered  "because  of  the  angels."1 
A  Byzantine  painter  would  have  been  utterly  shocked 
by  the  Madonnas  and  Magdalenes  painted  with  flowing 
and  dishevelled  tresses  which  were  so  greatly  admired  after 
the  Renaissance.  Her  feet  are,  as  a  matter  of  course,  hid- 
den beneath  the  folds  of  her  long  robe.  To  shew  them  in 
the  picture  would  have  been  deemed  irreverent. 

Her  look  is  far  away,  and  not  of  earth.  Her  emotionless 
and  inexpressive  face  is  an  attribute  of  majesty  too  lofty 
to  be  shadowed  forth  except  in  symbols.  That  the  ren- 
dering of  expression  was  not  beyond  the  painter's  power 
we  see  in  the  looks  of  astonishment,  of  earnestness,  even 
of  triumph  and  of  alarm,  which  he  paints  on  the  faces 
of  the  executioners  and  saints  in  the  scenes  on  either 
side. 

The  Child  is  not  a  child,  but  a  small  man.  This  was 
not  because  the  representation  of  childhood  exceeded  the 
artist's  skill,  but  because  to  represent  the  Saviour  as  a 
child  at  all  seemed  to  be  an  irreverent  naturalism.2  He  is 
robed  in  sjmimetrical  drapery.  His  right  hand  is  uplifted 

1  For  a  full  account  of  this  curious  Eastern  superstition,  with  many 
Eabbinic  and  other  illustrations,  see  my  Life  of  St.  Paul,  I.  639  (Exc. 
IV.). 

2  "  The  humanity  of  Christ  is  not  yet  awhile  even  hinted  at,  His  divin- 
ity alone  being  insisted  on.     This,  then,  is  the  reason  why  the  young  God 
is  here  represented  in  the  form  of  a  man-child,  erect,  with  the  assumed 
dignity  of  an  adult,  as,  after  the  manner  of  the  priests  in  the  Greek  Church, 
He  raises  His  hands  to  bless  the  faithful.     Mary  is  here  likewise  thought 
of  as  the  Virgin  elect  of  God  ;  not  as  the  Mother  of  Jesus,  the  Mother  of 
man's  highest  humanity. 

"Again  the  world  is  thought  of  as  a  place  made  hideous  with  evil, 
bearing  marks  of  the  serpent's  trail  over  all  its  Eden  beauty,  where 
saints  are  boiled  by  Pagans,  women  slain  by  seducers,  children  devoured 
by  dragons.  By  help  of  such  pictured  hell-deeds  were  men  taught  to 
loathe  this  base  world,  and  think  on  Heaven's  bliss."  The  grotesques 
in  the  animals  which  support  the  throne  are  "  here  introduced  as  a  means 
of  relief  from  the  strained  seriousness  of  life."  —  A.  H.  Mackinurdo,  Cen- 
tury Guild  Hobby  Horse,  I.  23. 


MARGARITOXE   OF   AREZZO.  113 

in  the  Greek  attitude  of  benediction;  in  His  left  He  holds 
the  roll  of  the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life.1 

The  glory  with  which  the  Virgin  and  Child  are  encircled 
is  the  mandorla,  or  Vesica  piscis,  to  recall  the  mystic  Fish. 
Inside  it  are  two  adoring  angels.  The  eagle,  the  lion,  the 
ox,  the  man,  in  the  four  corners,  are  the  four  traditional 
symbols  of  the  Four  Evangelists.  On  the  left  is  the  Nativ- 
ity and  the  Annunciation  to  the  Shepherds,  followed  by 
various  scenes  in  which  Satan  is  defeated  and  the  saints  of 
Christ  delivered.  St.  John  stands  unhurt  in  the  caldron 
of  boiling  oil;  St.  Catherine  is  buried  by  angels  on  Mount 
Sinai;  St.  Nicolas  persuades  some  sailors  to  throw  into  the 
sea  a  vase  of  oil  given  them  by  the  devil,  and  on  the  op- 
posite side  saves  three  innocent  men.  St.  John  resuscitates 
the  matron  Drusiana  of  Ephesus;  St.  Benedict  rolls  his 
naked  body  in  the  thorns,  where  now  the  roses  grow;  and 
St.  Margaret,  by  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  causes  the 
Dragon  to  burst  asunder.  The  fact  that  these  scenes  of 
horror  and  martyrdom  should  have  come  to  be  painted  at 
all  is  in  itself  characteristic  of  Byzantine  Art.  Such 
scenes  were  never  painted  by  the  early  Christians,  who,  by 
a  fine  instinct,  were  led  to  avoid  all  subjects  alien  from 
the  true  peace,  repose,  and  dignity  of  Art.  Asterius,  Bishop 
of  Amassea  (A.D.  600),  mentions  a  painting  of  the  martyr- 
dom of  St.  Euphemia  in  the  fourth  century,  in  the  great 

1  The  Latin  form  of  benediction  with  two  fingers  and  the  thumb  was 
meant  to  symbolize  the  Trinity.  In  the  Greek  form  of  benediction,  the 
extended  first  finger  is  meant  for  I, 
the  middle  finger  is  bent  like  a  C  (the 
ancient  form  of  the  Greek  S)  ;  the 
thumb  and  ring  finger  are  also  rounded 
into  a  C,  so  that  the  hand  symbolizes 
the  word  1C  •  XC,  the  monogram  for 
Jesus  Christ.  It  may  be  seen  in  an- 
other late  Byzantine  picture  (X.  G. 
1014),  by  Emmanuel,  a  Greek  priest,  Greek  form  of  benediction, 

painted  in  1660.     There,  too,  Christ  is 

in  the  Ichthys,  or  Vesica  piscis.    Didron,  Manuel,  p.  380,  E.  Tr. ;  Iconogr. 
de  Dieu,  p.  202. 


114  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

church  at  Chalcedon,  but  it  must  have  been  an  isolated 
exception.1  It  was  not  till  the  eighth  or  ninth  centuries 
that  paintings  of  anguish  and  torture  began  to  prevail 
even  in  the  Byzantine  schools. 

1  Asterius,  with  a  play  on  his  name,  was  quoted  as  "a  bright  star" 
(aslrum)  at  the  Second  Council  of  Nice. 


III. 

THE  DAWN  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE. 

' '  But  at  any  rate  I  have  loved  the  season 
Of  Art's  spring-birth  so  dim  and  dewy  ; 
My  sculptor  is  Nicolo  the  Pisan, 
My  painter  —  who  but  Cimabue  ?  " 

—  BROWNING. 

I  HAVE  already  said  that  I  am  in  no  sense  of  the  word 
attempting  to  write  even  the  outline  of  a  history  of  Art; 
but  I  must  briefly  indicate  how  the  long  and  dreary  reign 
of  Byzantinism  came  to  a  close. 

Mr.  Ruskin  characterizes  as  follows  the  great  periods 
of  Art:  — 

i.  The  Lombardic  Epoch.  —  The  Christianization  of  the 
barbaric  mind.  A  period  of  savage  but  noble  life  gradually 
subjected  to  law,  —  the  forming  of  men. 

ii.  The  Gothic  Period.  — 1200-1400  (Dante,  1300). 
The  period  of  vital  Christianity,  the  development  of  the 
laws  of  chivalry,  and  forms  of  imagination  which  are 
founded  on  Christianity. 

In  this  period  you  get  "the  highest  development  of 
Italian  character  and  chivalry  with  an  entirely  believed 
Christian  religion :  you  get  therefore  joy  and  courtesy  and 
hope  and  a  lovely  peace  in  death.  And  with  these  you 
have  two  fearful  elements  of  evil.  You  have  first  such 
confidence  in  the  virtue  of  the  creed  that  men  hate  and 
persecute  all  who  do  not  accept  it.  And,  worse  still,  *you 
find  such  confidence  in  the  power  of  the  creed  that  men 
not  only  can  do  anything  that  is  wrong,  and  be  themselves 
for  a  word  of  faith  pardoned,  but  are  even  sure  that  after 

115 


116  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

the  wrong  is  done  God  is  sure  to  put  it  all  right  again  for 
them,  or  even  make  things  better  than  they  were  before. 
Now  I  need  not  point  out  to  you  how  the  spirit  of  perse- 
cution as  well  as  of  vain  hope,  founded  on  creed  only,  is 
mingled  in  every  line  with  the  lovely  moral  teaching  of 
the  Divina  Commedia ;  nor  need  I  point  out  to  you  how, 
between  the  persecution  of  other  people's  creeds  and  the 
absolution  of  one's  own  crimes,  all  Christian  error  is  con- 
cluded." 

iii.  The  early  Renaissance  period.  —  In  this  epoch 
"the  arts  of  Greece  and  some  of  its  religion  return  and 
join  themselves  to  Christianity ;  not  taking  away  its  sin- 
cerity and  earnestness,  but  making  it  poetical  instead  of 
practical.  In  the  following  period  even  this  poetic 
Christianity  expressed  by  the  arts  became  devoted  to  the 
pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  in  that  they  persist  except  where 
they  are  saved  by  a  healthy  naturalism  or  domesticity. 

"  But  in  this  period  you  get  just  fifty  years  of  perfect 
work  —  the  time  of  the  Masters,  including  Luini,  Leonardo, 
Giovanni  Bellini,  Carpaccio,  Mantegna,  Verrocchio,  Cima 
da  Conegliano,  Perugino  and  —  in  date,  though  only  in  his 
earlier  life  belonging  to  the  school  —  Raphael.  The  great 
fifty  years  was  the  prime  of  life  of  three  men:  Giovanni 
Bellini,  b.  1430,  d.  1520  (set.  90) ;  Mantegna,  b.  1430,  d. 
1506  (set.  76)  ;  Carpaccio,  d.  1522. 

"  The  great  difference  between  these  men  and  the  for- 
mer school  is  their  desire  to  make  everything  dainty  and 
delightful."  Take  for  instance  Bellini's  St.  Jerome  in  his 
study :  "it  is  all  a  perfect  quintessence  of  innocent  luxury 
—  absolute  delight  without  one  drawback  in  it,  no  taint  of 
the  Devil  anywhere." 

"It  is  true  that  in  the  following  age,  founded  on  the 
absolutely  stern  rectitude  of  this,  there  came  a  phase  of 
gigantic  power  and  of  exquisite  ease  and  felicity  which 
possess  an  awe  and  a  charm  of  their  own.  They  are  more 
inimitable  than  the  work  of  the  perfect  school ;  but  they 
are  not  perfect." 


THE   DAWN  OF   THE   RENAISSANCE.  117 

"  Mocking  levity  and  mocking  gloom  are  equally  signs 
of  the  death  of  the  soul ;  just  as,  contrariwise,  a  passionate 
seriousness  and  passionate  joyfulness  are  signs  of  its  full 
life  in  works  such  as  those  of  Angelico,  Luini,  Ghiberti, 
or  La  Robbia." 

After  Raphael's  time  artists  mainly  "sought  to  paint 
fair  pictures  rather  than  represent  stern  facts ;  of  which 
the  consequence  has  been  that  from  Raphael's  time  to  this 
day,  historical  Art  has  been  in  acknowledged  decadence."1 

It  does  not  here  fall  into  my  province  to  inquire  into  the 
historic  causes  which  led  to  that  movement  of  the  human 
mind  we  call  the  Renaissance,  or  "  new  birth  "  of  art,  of 
literature,  of  poetry,  of  freedom,  of  genius ;  they  must  be 
sought  in  professed  histories  of  the  subject  like  those  of 
Burckhardt  or  Symonds.  But  many  of  them  are  not 
easily  definable  ;  we  can  only  say  of  them,  — 

"  There  is  a  day  in  spring 
When  under  all  the  earth  the  secret  germs 
Begin  to  stir  and  glow  before  they  bud. 
The  wealth  and  festal  growth  of  midsummer 
Lie  in  the  heart  of  that  inglorious  hour, 
Which  no  man  names  with  blessing  though  its  work 
Is  blessed  by  all  the  world.     Such  days  there  are 
In  the  slow  history  of  the  growth  of  souls." 

CIMABUE  is  usually  accredited  with  the  first  decisive  and 
triumphant  stride  forward  in  the  direction  of  the  emanci- 
pation of  Art  from  its  unnatural  Byzantine  trammels. 
This  view  has  been  severely  impugned  by  many  recent 
critics,  and  must  be  largely  modified,2  though  tradition  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  have  erred  in  assigning  great  importance 

1  On  the  Old  Boad,  I.  Pt.  II.  661. 

2  Criticising  the  view  that  Cimabue  may  be  called  "der  Stammvater 
aller  italienischer  Kunst,"  Schnaase  says:    "Bologna,  Pisa,   Siena,  be- 
sassen   altere,   einheimische,  zum  Theil  mit  Mahlernamen  bezeichnete 
Gemalde."     Gesch.  der  Uldenden  Kunste,  VII.  270.     P.  Angeli,  in  1638, 
in  his  Collis  Paradisi  amoenitates,  says:    "Juncta  Pisanus,  ruditer  a 
Graecis  instructus,  primus  ex  Italis  artem  apprehendit."     One  of  Giunta 
Pisano's  pictures  is  dated  1236. 


118  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

to  his  influence.  With  whatever  modifications,  it  must 
still  be  admitted  that  Cimabue  stood  in  the  first  line  of  the 
painters  of  his  time,  and  was  on  the  whole  the  chief  regen- 
erator of  painting  in  Italy. 

Painting,  however,  received  a  powerful  impulse  from 
sculpture.  It  was  Niccolo  Pisano  who  set  the  first  decisive 
example  of  independence.  He  "  suddenly  appears  in  Pisa 
as  one  who,  rejecting  the  conventional  religious  sentiment 
which  had  marked  his  predecessors  and  contemporaries, 
revived  the  imitations  of  the  classic  Roman  period.  He 
gave  new  life  to  an  apparently  extinct  art,  and  had  nothing 
in  common  with  the  men  of  his  time  at  Pisa  but  the  sub- 
jects which  he  treated."  He  had  derived  his  sudden  inspi- 
ration from  the  sight  of  a  Roman  antique.  The  impulse 
which  began  with  him  in  the  thirteenth  century  "  consum- 
mated itself  300  years  afterwards  in  Raphael  and  his  schol- 
ars." Mr.  Ruskin  speaks  with  perhaps  too  passionate  a 
severity  of  the  ultimate  consequences  of  classic  influence 
on  Art,  but  all  will  admit  the  general  truth  of  his  conten- 
tion. "Niccolo  first  among  Italians  thought  mainly,  in 
carving  the  Crucifixion,  not  how  heavy  Christ's  head  was 
when  He  bowed  it,  but  how  heavy  His  body  was  when 
people  came  to  take  it  down.  And  the  apotheosis  of  flesh  . . . 
went  steadily  on,  until  at  last  it  became  really  of  small 
consequence  to  the  artist  of  the  Renaissance  Incarnadine 
whether  a  man  had  his  head  on  or  not,  so  only  that  his 
legs  were  handsome :  and  the  decapitation,  whether  of 
St.  John  or  St.  Cecilia,  the  massacre  of  any  quantity  of 
Innocents,  the  flaying,  whether  of  Marsyas  or  St.  Bartholo- 
mew, and  the  deaths  it  might  be  of  Adonis  by  his  pig,  or 
it  might  be  of  Christ  by  His  people,  became,  one  and  all, 
simply  subjects  for  analysis  of  muscular  mortification  ;  and 
this  vast  body  of  artiste  accurately  therefore,  little  more 
than  a  chirurgically  useless  set  of  medical  students." 

Siena,  too,  as  well  as  Pisa,  Duccio  as  well  as  Niccolo, 
must  share  with  Florence  and  Cimabue  the  glory  of  having 
initiated  the  great  revival. 


THE   DAWN   OF   THE   RENAISSANCE. 


119 


Duccio  of  Buoninsegna  (1260-1340),  the  two  great 
brothers  Lorenzetti,  and  Ugoliiio,  were  all  distinguished 
before  the  close  of  the  first  half  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
Of  these,  Duccio  especially  was  a  painter  of  the  highest 
eminence.1  Every  line  of  his  simple  lovely  paintings 
breathes  of  reverence  and  love.  His  Maestti,  an  enthroned 
Virgin  surrounded  by  many  scenes  and  figures,  was  painted 
for  the  high  altar  of  the  Duomo  of  Siena,  and  on  June 
9,  1310,  was  carried  to  its  destined  place  in  a  solemn 
procession  "amidst  the  clangour  of  trumpets,  drums,  and 
the  church  bells."  The  well-known  picture  of  Christ's 
triumphal  entry  into 
Jerusalem  was  one  of 
the  numerous  scenes 
from  the  life  of  Christ 
which  were  parts  of 
the  reverse  or  the 
predella  of  this  great 
picture. 

The  accompanying 
woodcut     from      the 

T"r-'  ••' 

as 

V  ' 


Madonna  and  Child 
of  Duccio  in  our  Na- 
tional Gallery  (No. 
566),  though  it  is  by 
no  means  one  of  his 
best  pictures,  will 
shew  how  little  he 
has  to  fear  from  com- 
parison with  Cimabue. 
Hitherto  the  Holy 

Madonna.     (Duccio.) 

Child  had  almost  in- 
variably been  painted  in  the  act  of  benediction.  Here  He 

1  In  his  contract  of  Oct.  9,  1308,  for  the  Duomo  of  Siena,  he  promises 
"  pingere  et  facere  ut  Dominus  sibi  largietur."  Milanesi,  I.  160.  Tura 
dal  Grasso,  in  an  old  Sienese  chronicle,  says  fu  la  piu  bella  tavola  che 
mai  si  vedesse.  —  Wornum. 


120  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

is  represented  as  a  real  child,  though,  as  in  all  the  Byzan- 
tine pictures,  He  is  still  fully  draped;  but  He  wears  a 
sweet  and  child-like  expression,  and  with  a  truly  infantine 
gesture  He  is  drawing  aside  the  Virgin's  veil.  The  green 
faces  of  the  original  are  due  to  no  fault  of  the  painter,  but 
to  the  fact  that  the  surface  colours  over  the  green  ground 
of  the  flesh-tints  have  been  worn  away.1  The  school  of 
Siena,  brilliant  and  poetic  as  it  was,  "received  no  fresh 
inspiration  from  without,  and  perished  incomplete,  like 
Siena  herself,  from  its  own  ambitious  exclusiveness." 

The  real  name  of  CIMABTJE  was  Cenni.  He  was  born 
in  Florence  about  1240. 

The  fine  picture  of  Sir  F.  Leighton,  The  Procession  of 
Cimabue's  Madonna,  illustrates  the  famous  story  told  by 
Vasari,  that  when  his  Madonna  was  finished  in  1267  it 
was  seen  by  Charles  of  Anjou  in  the  painter's  bottega,  and 
was  carried  to  its  place  in  the  Rucellai  Chapel  of  Santa 
Maria  Novella  by  the  rejoicing  citizens  of  Florence  "  with 
the  sound  of  trumpets  and  other  festal  demonstrations."2 

The  immense  advance  made  by  Cimabue  may  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  one  word  Naturalism.  He  began  to  modify 
purely  historical  symbols,  and  to  substitute  for  them  the 
representations  of  things  in  their  true  aspect.  His  object 
was  not  merely  to  paint  sermons  or  doctrines,  but  to  shew 
men  and  women  more  nearly  as  they  are.  The  increase 
of  skill  and  the  greater  joyousness  of  worship  which  fol- 
lowed were  natural  results  of  this  stroke  of  genius.  Im- 
mature as  the  representation  of  nature  still  is,  we  feel  at 

1  See  Monkhouse,   The  Italian  Pre-Raphaelites,  p.  13.     Duccio   also 
executed  designs  in  chiaroscuro  in  marble  on  the  pavement  of  the  Duomo, 
by  a  process  of  his  own  invention.     Poynter,  Italian  Paintings,  63. 

2  Vasari  is  mistaken  in  saying  that  the  remembrance  of  their  exultant 
enthusiasm  gave  the  name  of  the  Borgo  Allegri,  or  the  Joyous  Suburb, 
to  the  street  of  Florence  down  which  the  procession  passed  from  the 
painter's  house.     That  quarter  received  its  name  from  the  palace  of  the 
Allegri  family.     But  the  practice  of  thus  carrying  a  picture  in  triumph 
was  not  uncommon.     The  altar-pieces  of  Duccio  and  of  Lorenzo  Lotto 
received  that  honour. 


THE   DAWN   OF   THE   RENAISSANCE. 


121 


once,  on  comparing  Cimabue's  Madonna  with  those  of  the 
Byzantine  artists,  that "  he  has  spoken,  not  with  the  thunder 
of  the  ecclesiastic  to  the  fear  of  the  layman,  but  with 
the  voice  of  a  man 
to  the  heart  of  his 
brother."  The  Vir- 
gin is  dressed  in  the 
traditional  and  sym- 
bolic colours  —  a  red 
tunic,  the  hue  of 
love,  and  a  blue 
mantle,  because  blue 
is  the  symbol  of 
heaven  and  hope. 
She  has  one  golden 
star  on  her  shoulder 
and  another  on  the 
fold  of  the  mantle 
which  covers  her 
hair.  Her  feet  rest 
on  a  stool  of  open- 
work, and  her  chair  is  hung  with  white  draperies  flowered 
in  gold  and  blue.  The  Child  on  her  knee  is  dressed  in  a 
white  tunic,  over  which  is  a  purple  mantle  marked  with 
hatchings  of  gold.  The  face  of  the  Virgin  is  sad  and 
solemn,  that  of  the  Child  is  natural  and  animated.  On 
either  side,  one  over  the  other,  in  graceful  attitudes,  kneel 
three  angels,  whose  faces  are  full  of  spiritual  fervour. 
The  picture  breathes  a  sense  of  peace  and  love,  and  the 
novelty  of  this  method  of  conceiving  so  stereotyped  a 
theme  was  well  calculated  to  inspire  a  burst  of  delight  and 
gratitude.1 

1  "  The  Madonna  of  the  Rucellai  Chapel  is  still  one  of  the  chief  objects 
of  pilgrimage  of  lovers  of  Art  who  go  to  Italy ;  and  it  is  still  hanging, 
dingy  and  veiled  by  the  dust  of  centuries,  in  the  unimposing,  almost 
shabby  Chapel  of  Santa  Maria  Novella,  probably  where  Dante  saw  it,  its 
hands  scarred  by  nails  to  put  the  ex  votos  on,  split  its  whole  length  by 


Madonna.     (Cimabue.) 


122  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IX  ART. 

The  Madonna  by  Cimabue  in  our  National  Gallery 
(No.  565)  is  described  by  Vasari  as  having  been  attached 
to  a  pilaster  in  the  Church  of  Santa  Croce,  at  Florence. 

Other  Madonnas  had  no  doubt  led  the  way  in  the  di- 
rection which  Cimabue  consciously  or  unconsciously  fol- 
lowed. A  revival  was  in  the  air.  There  is  no  absolute 
discontinuity  either  in  Art  or  in  human  life.  The  same 
general  tendencies  produce  the  same  general  results. 
There  is  a  Madonna  which  indicates  the  dawn  of  the 
Renaissance,  and  bears  a  date  fifty  years  earlier  than  the 
Madonna  of  Cimabue.  I  saw  it  in  Subiaco,  but  it  is  too 
dark  to  permit  an  effective  photograph.  It  bears  the 
inscription  Magister  Conxolus  pinxit  MCCXIX.  It  hangs 
on  the  staircase  between  the  upper  and  lower  church  of 
the  Sagro  Speco.  Owing  to  the  remoteness  of  the  lovely 
town  of  Subiaco  the  picture  has  been  but  little  noticed. 
To  this  unknown  master,  Conciolo,  is  also  attributed  a 
vigorous  little  sketch  of  the  boy  St.  Benedict  in  his  cave, 
discovered  by  the  priest  of  Porticara,  while  from  above 
St.  Romanus  lets  down  food  to  him  in  a  basket. 

The  life  of  Cimabue  probably  covered  the  years  from 
1240  to  1302 ;  Duccio  was  only  twenty  years  younger,  and 

time's  seasoning,  and  scaled  in  patches ;  the  white  gesso  ground  shewing 
through  the  colour,  —  so  obscured  by  time  that  one  can  hardly  see  that 
the  Madonna's  robe  was  the  canonical  blue,  the  sad  mother's  face  looking 
out  from  under  the  hood,  and  the  pathetic  Christ-child  blessing  the  adoring 
angels  at  the  side.  Like  all  the  work  of  its  time,  it  has  a  pathos  which 
neither  the  greater  power  of  modern  Art  nor  the  enervate  elaborateness 
of  modern  purism  can  ever  attain.  Something  in  it,  by  an  inexplicable 
magnetism,  tells  of  the  profound  devotion,  the  unhesitating  worship,  of 
the  religious  painter  of  that  day,  of  faith  and  prayer,  devotion  and  wor- 
ship, forever  gone  out  of  Art.  And  the  aroma  of  centuries  of  prayer 
and  trust  still  gives  it  to  me  a  charm  beyond  that  of  Art, —  the  sacredness 
which  lingers  in  the  eyes  which  have  looked  into  the  sorrows  and  aspira- 
tions of  the  thousands  of  unhappy  ones  who  in  the  past  have  laid  their 
hearts  before  the  Madonna  of  the  Borgo  Allegri."  —  W.  J.  Stillman, 
Coles'  Old  Italian  Masters,  p.  15.  "The  delight,"  says  Ruskin,  "was 
not  merely  in  the  revelation  of  an  art  they  had  not  known  how  to 
practise  ;  it  was  delight  in  the  revelation  of  a  Madonna  whom  they  had 
not  known  how  to  love."  —  Mornings  in  Florence,  II.  48. 


THE   DAWN  OF  THE   RENAISSANCE.  123 

seems  to  have  lived  until  1339.  Duccio  was  little  if  at  all 
inferior  to  Cimabue  in  charm  and  greatness.  Mosaicists, 
like  Fra  Giacomo  at  Siena,  had  already  pointed  to  them 
both  the  way  towards  a  substitution  of  representative  for 
conventional  types.  The  Madonna  of  Guido  of  Siena,  which 
was  painted  in  1229,  nineteen  years  before  the  birth  of 
Cimabue,  "  though  still  Greek,  shows  a  wonderful  advance 
towards  the  modern  style." 


IV. 

GIOTTO. 
"Non  meno  buon  Cristiano  che  eccellente  pittore."  —  VASARI. 

I  WILL  not  touch  on  the  history  of  the  Revival  of  Art 
further  than  to  say  that  the  revolution  which  Cimabue 
and  Duccio  more  or  less  established,  if  they  did  not  inaugu- 
rate, was  carried  to  its  complete  triumph  by  the  genius  of 
GIOTTO  BONDONE,  son  of  the  peasant  of  Vespignano. 

Mr.  Ruskin  sums  up  Giotto's  main  innovations  under 
the  heads  of  greater  lightness  of  colour,  greater  breadth  of 
mass,  and  close  imitation  of  nature.  "  His  first  aim,"  says 
Lord  Lindsay,  "  was  to  infuse  new  life  into  traditional  com- 
positions by  substituting  the  heads,  attitudes,  and  draperies 
of  the  actual  world  for  the  spectral  forms  and  conventional 
types  of  the  Byzantine  painters  " ;  and  his  next  was  "  to 
vindicate  the  right  of  modern  Europe  to  think,  feel,  and 
judge  for  herself,  to  reissue  or  recoin  the  precious  gold  of 
the  past  according  as  the  image  and  superscription  are  or 
are  not  worthy  of  perusal."  He  was  one  of  the  few  great 
innovators  whose  genius  forced  itself  into  early  recogni- 
tion. All  his  famous  contemporaries,  as  well  as  their  suc- 
cessors—  Petrarca,  Boccaccio,  Riccobaldo,  Villani,  Cennini, 
Leon  Alberti  —  speak  of  his  supremacy.  Above  all,  he 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Dante,  who  aided  him  with  deep 
and  fertile  suggestions,  and  wrote  — 

"Once  Cimabue  seemed  to  hold  full  sure 
His  own  'gainst  all  in  art,  now  Giotto  bears 
The  palm,  and  this  man's  fame  does  that  obscure." l 

1  Dean  Plumptre's  translation  of 

"  Credette  Ciambue  nella  pittura 

Tener  lo  campo  :  ed  ora  ha  Giotto  il  prido 
SI  che  la  fama  di  colui  fc  oscura."  —  Purg.  XI.  93-96. 
124 


GIOTTO.  125 

Giotto,  like  Cimabue  and  his  predecessors  and  succes- 
sors for  a  full  century,  was  emphatically  a  devout  and 
religious  painter.  The  art  of  these  painters  was  wholly 
devoted  to  the  service  of  religion.  It  was  indeed  from 
religion  that  it  had  received  its  main  impulse.  They 
shared  the  reviving  breath  of  life  and  inspiration  which 
had  come  to  the  Church  from  the  passionate  zeal  of  St. 
Dominic  and  the  humble  tenderness  and  self-devotion  of 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  The  popes  and  the  monks  were  their 
chief  patrons,  and  sacred  places  —  the  Cathedral  of  Siena 
the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  the  monastery  Church  of  Assisi, 
the  Brancacci  Chapel  at  Florence  —  became  the  chief 
scenes  where  the  elder  painters  displayed,  and  the  younger 
learned,  their  skill.1  Of  Giotto  there  cannot  remain  the 
smallest  doubt  that  "  his  mind  was  one  of  the  most  healthy, 
kind,  and  active  that  ever  informed  a  human  frame.  His 
love  of  beauty  was  entirely  free  from  weakness ;  his  love 
of  truth  untinged  by  severity ;  his  industry  constant  with- 
out impatience ;  his  workmanship  accurate  without  for- 
malism ;  his  temper  serene  yet  playful,  and  his  faith  firm 
without  superstition.  I  do  not  know,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin, 
"  in  the  annals  of  Art  such  another  example  of  happy, 
practical,  unerring,  and  benevolent  power."2  Vasari,  after 
telling  us  that  he  yielded  up  his  soul  to  God  in  Florence 
in  1366,  adds  that  "he  was  no  less  a  good  Christian  than 
an  excellent  painter." 

How  deep  was  the  religious  feeling  of  the  painters  of 
the  Campo  Santo  is  shewn  throughout  their  work.  The 
painters  of  Siena  may  speak  for  themselves  in  the  statutes 
of  their  guild  drawn  up  in  1355.  They  act  on  the  prin- 
ciple on  which  St.  Paulinus  of  Nola  had  insisted,  and  Avhich 
Comestor  stated  in  the  twelfth  century,  Picturae  ecclesi- 
arum  sunt  quasi  libri  laicorum.8 

1  Not  a  few  of  the  painters  like  Jacobus  Torriti,  Lorenzo  Monaco,  Fra 
Angelico,  Fra  Bartolomineo,  Fra  Lippo  Lippi,  were  themselves  monks  of 
various  orders. 

2  Giotto  and  His  Works  in  Padua,  p.  17. 

3  Historia  Scholastica  :  Hist.  Evang.  p.  5.     Sir  C.  Eastlake  (Kugler,  I. 


126  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

"In  the  beginning,  in  the  middle,  and  in  the  end  of 
words  and  actions,  our  order  is  in  the  name  of  the  Almighty 
God  and  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  our  Lady  Mary,  Amen. 
Since  we  are  teachers  to  unlearned  men,"  they  said,  "  of 
the  marvels  done  by  the  power  and  strength  of  holy  relig- 
ion, and  since  no  undertaking,  however  small,  can  have  a 
beginning  or  an  end  without  these  three  things ;  that  is, 
without  the  power  to  do,  without  knowledge,  and  without 
true  love  of  work ;  and  since  in  God  every  perfection  is 
eminently  united;  now  to  the  end  that,  in  this  our  calling, 
however  unworthy  it  may  be,  we  may  have  a  certain  in- 
spiration of  good  beginning  and  a  good  ending  in  all  our 
words  and  deeds,  with  great  desire,  we  ask  the  aid  of  the 
Divine  grace,  and  commence  by  a  dedication  to  the  honour 
of  the  Name,  and  in  the  Name  of  the  most  Holy  Trinity." l 

These  early  masters  are  now  loved  and  valued,  and  many 
find  in  their  works  an  inexpressible  charm.  But  this 
growth  of  a  pure  taste  is  comparatively  recent,  and  to  this 
day  those  who  have  been  taught  only  to  admire  the  antique, 
and  the  smooth  perfection  —  too  often  the  mere  splendid 
nullity  —  of  modern  painters,  pass  the  old  Italian  pictures 
with  something  like  contempt.  Even  Sir  J.  Reynolds 
characterizes  their  simplicity  as  mere  "penury,"  arising 
from  want  of  knowledge,  of  resources,  of  ability  to  see 
otherwise  —  the  offspring,  not  of  choice,  but  of  necessity. 
Hogarth  in  his  Enthusiasm  Delineated  is  so  absolutely 
disdainful  of  Umbrian  Cherubs,  that  he  describes  them  as 
infants'  heads  with  ducks'  wings  under  their  chins,  flying 
about,  singing  psalms,  and  he  paints  one  with  duck's  legs. 
Sir  D.  Wilkie  ranked  them  with  the  Chinese  and  the  Hin- 
doos, and  the  English  criticism  of  that  day  saw  in  them 
nothing  better  than  "faded  and  soulless  attempts  of  de- 
crepit monkish  littleness."  It  needed  the  teaching  of  Lord 

p.  xiv.)  thinks  that  the  painters  made  use  of  Comestor's  book.  They 
were  certainly  influenced  hy  scholastic  commentaries  mainly  drawn  from 
the  early  Fathers. 

1  Quoted  by  Gaye,  Carteggio  Inedito.  II.  1,  Firenze,  1839. 


GIOTTO.  127 

Lindsay,  of  Rio,  and  of  Ruskin  to  shew  us  that  Giotto  and 
the  early  masters  "delivered  the  burning  messages  of 
prophecy  with  the  stammering  lips  of  infancy."  Mr.  Den- 
nistoun  in  his  Dukes  of  Urbino  points  out  that  to  sympa- 
thize with  early  Italian  Art,  we  must  breathe  the  sweet 
enthusiasm  which  decorated  the  monastery  of  the  Saint  of 
Assisi,  and  the  religious  thought  which  evoked  the  fres- 
coes of  Santa  Maria  Novella  in  Florence,  the  Campo  Santo 
of  Pisa,  and  the  Cathedral  of  Orvieto. 

Throughout  the  fourteenth  century  among  the  painters 
who  are  called  Giotteschi  —  because  they  did  little  more 
than  carry  on  the  impulse  which  they  had  received  from 
Giotto's  genius  —  the  sense  of  the  moral  functions  of  Art 
continues  unimpaired.  They  are,  like  true  poets,  "  simple, 
sensuous,  passionate."  For  details  and  accessories  they 
care  but  little.  Their  one  object  is  to  tell  their  sacred 
story  in  all  its  beauty  and  simplicity.  "  Hence  comes  that 
powerful  sincerity  of  emotion,  that  astonishing  unity  of 
thought,  which  in  spite  of  deficiency  of  technique,  pre- 
serve to  the  blossoming  season  of  Italian  Art  an  incompar- 
able splendour." 1 

Our  great  art-critic  has  said  that  "  in  the  noblest  sense 
of  the  word  no  vain  and  selfish,  no  shallow  or  petty,  no 
false,  persons  can  paint."  Nor  is  this  any  expression  of 
passing  enthusiasm.  Great  thinkers  and  great  artists  coin- 
cide in  holding  the  same  truth.  No  one  will  suspect 
Diderot  of  an  excess  of  religious  reverence ;  yet  speaking 
of  a  great  painter,  his  judgment  was  that  "  degradation  of 
taste,  of  colour,  of  composition,  of  design,  has  followed, 
step  by  step,  the  degradation  of  his  character.  What  must 
the  artist  have  011  his  canvas  ?  That  which  he  has  in  his 
imagination  ;  that  which  he  has  in  his  life." 

"•  Art  neither  belongs  to  religion  nor  to  ethics,"  says 
Victor  Cousin  ;  "  but  like  them,  it  brings  us  nearer  to  the 
Infinite,  one  of  the  forms  of  which  it  manifests  to  us.  God 
is  the  source  of  all  beauty,  of  all  truth,  of  all  religion,  of 

1  Lafenestre,  I.  61. 


128  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

all  morality.  The  most  exalted  object,  therefore,  of  Art 
is  to  reveal  in  its  own  manner  the  sentiment  of  the  In- 
finite." 

The  authority  of  two  great  English  painters  tells  in  the 
same  direction. 

"The  art  which  we  profess,"  says  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
"  has  beauty  for  its  object :  this  it  is  our  business  to  dis- 
cover and  to  express.  But  the  beauty  of  which  we  are  in 
quest  is  general  and  intellectual ;  it  is  an  idea  that  sub- 
sists only  in  the  mind :  the  sight  never  beheld  it,  nor  has 
the  hand  expressed  it ;  it  is  an  idea  residing  in  the  breast 
of  the  artist,  which  he  is  always  labouring  to  impart,  and 
which  he  dies  at  last  without  imparting,  but  which  he  is 
yet  so  far  able  to  communicate  as  to  raise  the  thoughts 
and  extend  the  views  of  the  spectator ;  and  which,  by  a 
succession  of  art,  may  be  so  far  diffused  that  its  effects 
may  extend  themselves  imperceptibly  into  public  benefits, 
and  be  among  the  means  of  bestowing  on  whole  nations 
refinement  of  taste,  which,  if  it  does  not  lead  directly  to 
purity  of  manners,  obviates  at  least  their  greatest  deprava- 
tion, by  disentangling  the  mind  from  appetite,  and  con- 
ducting the  thoughts  through  successive  stages  of  excel- 
lence, till  that  contemplation  of  universal  rectitude  and 
harmony,  which  began  by  taste,  may,  as  it  is  exalted  and 
refined,  conclude  in  virtue." 

"  Art,"  says  Sir  Frederic  Leighton,  the  President  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  "  is  wholly  independent  of  morality ;  there 
is,  nevertheless,  no  error  deeper  or  more  deadly  than  to 
deny  that  the  moral  complexion,  the  ethos,  of  the  artist, 
does,  in  truth,  tinge  every  work  of  his  hand,  and  fashion 
—  in  silence,  but  with  the  certainty  of  fate  —  the  course 
and  current  of  his  whole  career.  Believe  me,  whatever  of 
dignity,  whatever  of  strength,  we  have  within  us,  will 
display  and  make  strong  the  labours  of  our  hands ;  what- 
ever littleness  degrades  our  spirit  will  lessen  them  and 
drag  them  down ;  whatever  noble  fire  is  in  our  hearts  will 
burn  also  in  our  work ;  whatever  purity  is  ours  will  chasten 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   RENAISSANCE.  129 

and  exalt  it.  For  as  we  are,  so  our  work  is ;  and  what  we 
sow  in  our  lives,  that  beyond  a  doubt  we  shall  reap,  for 
good  or  for  ill,  in  the  strengthening  and  defacing  of  what- 
ever gifts  have  fallen  to  our  lot." 

I  quote  these  words  because  they  express  with  all  the 
weight  of  authority  the  views  with  which  this  book  has 
been  written. 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   RENAISSANCE. 

It  must  here  suffice  to  refer  to  the  abbreviated  list  of 
the  chief  schools  of  painting  at  the  end  of  the  volume, 
which  will  prepare  the  reader  for  the  names  which  will 
most  frequently  recur,  and  will  present  at  least  the  approxi- 
mate periods  covered  by  their  lives.  I  will  also  point  out 
the  most  salient  characteristics  of  the  main  successive 
epochs  of  religious  Art.  For  further  information,  the 
reader  must  consult  some  of  the  very  numerous  works 
from  which  a  small  and  careful  selection  has  been  made 
in  the  appended  list  of  authorities. 

SCHOOLS   OF  PAINTING. 

The  Italians  say :  — 

Veneziani,  gran  Signori ; 
Padovani,  gran  Dottori ; 
Vicentini,  magnagatti ; 
Veronesi,  mezzo  matti ; 
Bresciani,  spaccacantoni ; 
Bergamasci,  facoglioni. 

These  old  Italian  rhymes  illustrate  the  haughty  magnifi- 
cence of  the  Venetian  style  of  art ;  the  skill  of  the  Paduan ; 
the  cheerfulness  of  the  Veronese ;  and  the  sturdy  indepen- 
dence of  the  school  of  Brescia. 

"  The  word  school  has  various  significations  with  writers 
on  Art;  in  its  widest  sense  it  means  all  the  painters 


130  THE  LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

of  a  given  country,  as  'the  Italian  School.'  In  a  more 
restricted  sense,  it  refers  to  the  style  which  may  distin- 
guish the  painters  of  a  particular  locality  or  period,  as  '  the 
Bolognese  School.'  In  its  most  limited  sense  it  signifies 
the  distinctive  style  of  a  particular  master,  as  'the  School 
of  Raphael.' "  —  WORNUM. 

In  the  list  of  painters  at  the  end  of  the  volume  dates 
are  furnished.  There  is  undoubtedly  an  element  of  con- 
fusion in  the  classification  of  painters  by  schools.  Rio, 
who  introduced  the  expression  "  Umbrian  school,"  and 
was  the  first  to  do  justice  to  the  School  of  Siena,  had  also 
to  adopt  a  sort  of  "  moral  geography,"  and  to  speak  of  the 
"  Mystic  School." 

There  are  two  great  ages  of  Italian  Art  —  the  Giottesque 
period,  which  has  sometimes  been  called  the  heroic ;  and 
the  Scientific,  which  began  with  more  thorough  knowledge 
of  anatomy,  perspective,  and  chiaroscuro. 

Baron  Rumohr,  a  special  authority  on  the  School  of 
Florence,  distinguishes  its  three  main  tendencies  during 
the  fifteenth  century,  which  represents  the  scientific  period 
after  Cimabue,  and  the  Giotteschi. 

1.  There  was  a  group  of   painters  who  aimed  at   the 
expression  of  action,  movement,  and  intense  passion,  re- 
presented by  Masolino  da  Panicale,  Masaccio,  Fra  Lippo 
Lippi,  Pesellino,  Botticelli,  and  Filippino  Lippi. 

2.  The  painters  who  aimed  at  realistic  probability  and 
correctness  in  hitting  off  the  characteristics  of  individual 
things,  perhaps  began  with  Cosimo  Roselli,  and  are  also 
represented  by  Baldovinetti  and  Ghirlandajo. 

3.  Some   painters  were   powerfully  influenced   by  the 
achievements  of  sculpture,  such  as  Pollajuolo,  Verrocchio, 
L.  da  Vinci,  and  Lorenzo  di  Credi. 

Adopting  another  line  of  division,  Mr.  Ruskin  selects 
three  names  as  the  representatives  of  the  art  of  their  day, 
and  of  all  subsequent  time.  They  are  :  - 

i.  Giotto,  the  first  of  the  great  line  of  dramatists,  ter- 
minating in  Raphael. 


PROGRESS  OF   THE   RENAISSANCE.  131 

ii.  Orcagna,  the  head  of  that  branch  of  the  contempla- 
tive schools  which  leans  towards  terror,  terminating  in 
Michael  Angelo. 

iii.  Angelico,  the  head  of  the  contemplatives,  concerned 
with  the  heavenly  idea,  around  whom  may  be  grouped: 
first,  Duccio  and  the  Sienese  who  preceded  him,  and  after- 
wards Pinturicchio,  Perugino,  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 

In  another  passage  Mr.  Ruskin  again  divides  painters 
into  three  classes :  — 

1.  Those  who  take  the  good  and  leave  the  evil,  admit- 
ting into  their  pictures  no  evil  passions,  no  storms,  no 
darkness ;  such  as  Angelico,  Perugino,  Francia,  Raphael, 
Bellini,  Stothard. 

2.  Those  who  take  nature  unhesitatingly,  sympathizing 
with  the  good,  but  frankly  confessing  the  evil;  such  as 
Giotto,  Tintoret,  Turner. 

3.  Those  who  take  the  evil  only  (or  mostly)  ;  such  as 
Salvator  Rosa,  Correggio,  Wouvermanns. 

To  the  impulse  of  religious  enthusiasm  which  so  power- 
fully influenced  some  of  the  Renaissance  painters,  must  be 
added  the  effects  produced  by  an  intensely  eager  study  of 
nature  and  of  man ;  and  those  produced  by  the  revival 
of  classical  literature  and  the  return  to  antique  models. 
Giotto  was  a  powerful  mover  in  the  first  direction ; 
Niccolo  Pisano  in  the  second. 

In  his  remarkable  lecture  on  the  relations  between 
Michael  Angelo  and  Tintoret,  Mr.  Ruskin  gives  a  brilliant 
sketch  of  the  religious  decline  which  marked  the  epoch  of 
the  later  Renaissance,  and  of  the  schools  which  followed 
it.  He  says  that  "the  course  of  Art  divides  itself  hith- 
erto, among  all  nations  of  the  world  that  have  practised  it 
successfully,  into  three  great  periods." 

The  first  is  that  in  which  the  conscience  is  undevel- 
oped, and  the  religious  imagination  contracted  though 
often  vivid,  and  the  conduct  in  satisfied  harmony  with  the 
undeveloped  conscience. 

The  second   stage   is  the   formation  of  the  conscience 


132  THE  LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

by  the  discovery  of  the  true  laws  of  social  order  and  per- 
sonal virtue,  coupled  with  sincere  effort  to  live  by  such 
laws.  During  this  stage  'all  the  arts  advance  steadily, 
and  are  lovely  even  in  their  deficiencies,  as  the  buds  of 
flowers  are  lovely  by  their  vital  force,  swift  change,  and 
continent  beauty.' 

In  the  third  stage  the  conscience  is  entirely  formed,  but 
the  nation,  finding  its  precepts  painful,  tries  to  compromise 
obedience  to  its  laws.  .  .  .  Religion  is  made  pompous  and 
pleasurable,  and  the  magnificent  display  of  the  powers  of 
Art  gained  by  the  previous  sincerity,  is  followed  by  their 
extinction,  which  is  rapid  and  complete,  exactly  in  the 
degree  in  which  the  nation  resigns  itself  to  hypocrisy. 

"  The  works  of  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Tintoret 
belong  to  this  period  of  compromise. 

"  In  their  first  searching  and  sincere  activities,  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Reformation  produced  the  most  instructive 
art,  and  the  grandest  literature  yet  given  to  the  world; 
while  Italy,  in  her  interested  resistance  to  those  doctrines, 
polluted  and  exhausted  the  arts  she  already  possessed. 
Her  iridescence  of  dying  statesmanship,  her  magnificences 
of  hollow  piety,  were  represented  in  the  arts  of  Venice 
and  Florence  by  two  mighty  men  on  either  side  :  Titian 
and  Tintoret  —  Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael.  Of  the 
calm  and  brave  statesmanship,  the  modest  and  faithful 
religion,  which  had  been  her  strength,  I  am  content  to 
name  one  chief  representative  at  Venice,  —  John  Bellini." 

Mr.  Ruskin  proceeds  to  map  out  the  chronological 
relations  between  these  painters :  — 

He  thinks  that  the  best  effort  and  deadly  catastrophe 
took  place  in  the  forty  years  between  1480,  when  Michael 
Angelo  was  five  and  Titian  three  years  old,  and  1520, 
when  Raphael  died.  Bellini  represents  the  best  art  before 
them,  and  Tintoret  the  best  art  after  them.  Bellini  died 
four  years  before  Raphael,  and  Tintoret  was  born  four 
years  before  Bellini  died. 

"In  the  best  works  of  Bellini  we  find,"  he  says,  "the 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   RENAISSANCE.  133 

first  essentials  of  the  greatest  art :  faultless  workmanship  ; 
serenity;  the  face  principal,  not  the  body;  and  in  the  face 
only  joy  and  beauty,  never  vileness,  vice,  or  pain.  The 
changes  which  issued  from  the  example  and  influence  of 
Michael  Angelo  were  ill  work  for  good,  tumult  for  peace, 
the  flesh  for  the  spirit,  and  the  curse  of  God  for  His 
blessing." l 

Among  the  painters  most  remarkable  for  the  purity  and 
intensity  of  their  religious  feeling  we  may  name  Fra 
Angelico,  Sandro  Botticelli,  Fra  Bartolommeo,  Lorenzo  di 
Credi,  Lorenzo  Lotto,  Bernardino  Luini,  Giovanni  Bellini, 
and  Raphael  in  his  earliest  phase. 

A  very  powerful  effect  was  produced  on  the  history  of 
painting  by  the  genius  of  Masaccio.  The  figure  of  a  kneel- 
ing youth  who  shivers  in  the  water,  in  St.  Peter  Baptizing, 
constituted  an  epoch  in  Art,  and  the  Brancacci  Chapel 
became  through  Masaccio  a  school  for  artists.  Even 
Raphael  did  not  disdain  to  borrow  from  this  "supreme 
and  solitary  genius."  His  work  shewed  that  the  influ- 
ence of  classical  antiquity,  which  had  powerfully  affected 
sculpture,  had  now  found  its  way  into  painting.  "  Giotto," 
says  Mr.  Gilbert,  "  had  introduced  simplicity,  dignity,  dra- 
matic and  touching  action.  Masaccio  added  to  these  gran- 
deur of  pose,  good  drawing,  acquaintance  with  the  nude, 
perspective,  shadow,  atmosphere,  reality."  Even  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  after  speaking  of  Giotto's  greatness  and  the  deca- 
dence of  imitation  which  followed  it,  adds,  "  Thus  it  went 
on  from  century  to  century,  until  Tommaso  of  Florence, 
nicknamed  Masaccio,  shewed  by  his  perfect  works  how 
those  who  take  for  their  standard  any  one  but  Nature,  the 
mistress  of  all  masters,  weary  themselves  in  vain." 

Annibale  Caro  wrote  for  his  tomb  the  inscription :  — 

"  Pin  si  e  la  mia  pittura  al  ver  fu  pari 
Atteggiai,  1'  avvivai,  le  diedi  il  moto, 
Le  diedi  affetto,  insegni  a  Buonarotto 
A  tutti  gli  altri,  e  da  me  solo  impari." 

1  Aratra  Pentelici,  §  220. 


134  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Masaccio  was  born  in  1402,  and  disappeared,  wholly 
unnoticed  at  Rome,  in  1429. 

Paolo  di  Dono,  surnamed  Uccello  from  his  love  of  paint- 
ing birds,  was  born  in  1397,  and  was  the  first  ardent  stu- 
dent of  perspective,  with  a  love  for  which  he  was  inspired 
by  the  works  of  Brunelleschi,  Ghiberti,  and  Donatello. 

The  impulse  borrowed  from  sculpture,  the  study  of  the 
nude,  and  of  anatomy,  was  greatly  increased  by  Antonio 
del  Pollajuolo  (1429-1496),  Andrea  Verrocchio  (1432- 
1488),  and  Luca  Signorelli,  of  Cortona  (14417-1523). 

Two  men,  who  were  not  themselves  painters,  power- 
fully influenced  the  Renaissance  movement  in  Florence  in 
opposite  directions  :  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  by  his  magnificent 
patronage ;  Savonarola,  by  his  burning  enthusiasm,  which 
affected  such  men  as  Botticelli  and  Fra  Bartolommeo. 
They  never  forgot  the  dictum  of  their  prophet-teacher: 
"  Creatures  are  beautiful  in  proportion  as  they  participate 
in,  and  approximate  to,  the  beauty  of  their  Creator,  and 
perfection  of  bodily  form  is  relative  to  beauty  of  mind." 

We  shall  have  occasion  to  see  that  the  three  men  in 
whom  the  genius  of  the  Renaissance  culminated,  before  it 
began  to  decline,  were  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  whom  Morelli 
calls  "perhaps  the  most  richly  gifted  man  that  Mother 
Nature  ever  made  "  ;  Michael  Angelo,  whose  grandeur  was 
so  deeply  felt  even  by  Raphael  that  he  thanked  God  for 
having  been  born  in  his  days ;  and  Raphael  himself. 

Mantegna,  an  eminently  sculpturesque  painter,  is  the 
glory  of  the  School  of  Mantua,  and  owed  much  to  the 
collection  of  antiques  made  by  his  master  Squarcione. 

The  Umbrian  School,  of  which  Perugino,  Pinturicchio, 
and  Raphael  were  the  chief  glory,  is  remarkable  for  what 
the  Italians  call  gentilezza.  It  leant  to  the  mystic  rather 
than  to  the  classical,  and  the  too  languorous  ecstasies 
into  which  it  was  apt  to  degenerate,  formed  the  most 
marked  antithesis  to  the  gloom  and  sternness  of  Michael 
Angelo. 

Raphael  inherited  the  artistic  faculty  from  his  excellent 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   RENAISSAXCE.  135 

father,  Giovanni  Santi,  and  he  was  perfected  by  the  ab- 
sorption of  many  influences.  He  learnt  something  from 
his  first  master,  Timoteo  Viti,  who  had  been  a  pupil  of 
Francia ;  much  from  Perugino ;  much  from  Fra  Bartolom- 
meo  in  Florence ;  and  much  from  Michael  Angelo  in 
Rome.  "  Between  the  powerful  individuality  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  of  Correggio,  the  divine  Raphael,"  says 
Morelli,  "stands  midway,  as  the  most  measured,  most 
calm,  most  perfect  of  the  artists,  the  only  one  who  in 
some  respects  was  the  equal  of  the  Greeks.  Happy  the 
land  that  has  such  men  to  offer  to  the  world  !  " 

The  special  glory  of  the  Venetian  School  was  its  colour- 
ing, which  assumed  its  supreme  perfection  in  Titian.  The 
art  of  oil  painting  was  introduced  into  Venice  by  Antonello 
da  Messina,  whose  oldest  extant  dated  picture,  of  the  year 
1465,  is  the  Salvator  Mundi  in  the  National  Gallery. 

There  were  four  epochs  in  Venetian  painting :  — 

1.  The    Byzantine,    chiefly   famed    for    sculpture    and 
mosaics,  down  to  1400. 

2.  The  epoch  of  the  religious  paintings  of  the  Vivarini, 
sincere  in  feeling,  but  inferior  in  skill,  1480-1481. 

3.  The   Bellini   epoch,  1480-1520,  in  which  religious 
feeling  found  its  finest  expression. 

4.  The    Titian    epoch,    splendid,    but    more    worldly, 
1520-1600. 

5.  The  decadence,  1600-1800.1 

The  great  Venetian,  Tintoretto  (1518-1594),  aimed  at 
uniting  "the  colouring  of  Titian  with  the  design  of 
Michael  Angelo."  His  sweeping  impetuosity  of  style 
earned  him  the  nickname  of  "  il  f urioso."  The  Venetians 
said  "  he  had  three  pencils  —  one  of  gold,  one  of  silver, 
and  the  third  of  iron."  Annibale  Carracci  well  expressed 
his  inequality,  when  he  said  that  "if  he  was  sometimes 
equal  to  Titian,  he  was  often  inferior  to  Tintoretto." 

The  decadence  which  followed  the  exaggeration  of 
Michael  Angelo's  influence  is  seen  in  the  violent  efforts, 

1  See  C.  Blanc,  Ecole  Venitienne. 


136  THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

contorted  figures,  and  academic  mannerism  of  painters 
like  Bronzino  (1502-1572)  and  Salviati  (1510-1563). 

After  the  death  of  Leonardo,  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo, 
and  Correggio,  begin  the  Eclectics,  who  lost  themselves 
in  vain  efforts  to  combine  the  ineffable  grace  of  Raphael, 
the  strange  smile  of  Leonardo,  the  harmonious  sweetness 
of  Correggio,  and  the  grandiose  anatomy  of  Michael 
Angelo.  The  Bolognese  Eclectics  protested  against  An- 
gelo's  mannerism,  but  fell  into  the  yet  falser  principle 
of  attempting  to  create  an  "  ideal "  style  by  the  copy  of 
separate  excellencies.  This  school  was  founded  by  the 
Carraccis  about  1580,  but  was  followed  by  men  greater 
than  themselves,  such  as  Guido  Reni  (b.  1575),  Domeni- 
chino  (b.  1581),  and  Guercino  (b.  1571). 

The  Eclectics  rapidly  sank  into  academic  mediocrity 
and  insipid  earthiness,  and  provoked  the  coarse  reaction  of 
the  Naturalists,  who  seemed,  like  Caravaggio,  to  prefer 
all  that  was  vulgar  and  vile  to  what  had  grace  and  charm. 
Caravaggio  represents  the  Zolaism  of  Art. 

The  chief  painter  of  the  detestable  Neapolitan  School 
of  the  Tenebrosi  (so  called  from  their  preference  for  dark 
tints)  was  Ribera  (Spagnoletto,  b.  1588).  The  best  known 
pupil  of  Ribera  was  the  gifted  but  unhappy  Salvator  Rosa, 
who  belonged  to  a  company  which  took  the  name  of  I  per- 
cossi,  "the  stricken  ones."  I  need  say  nothing  more  of 
him  here  than  the  fact  that  he  addressed  his  fellow-man  as 

" In sana 

Turba  de'  vivi,  perfidi,  e  malvagi 
Senza  fe,  senza  amor,  cruda,  inumana." 

The  motto  which  he  chose  for  his  picture  of  Human 
Frailty  was :  — 

"  Nasci  poena ;  labor  vita ;  necesse  mori." 

The  two  most  glorious  names  of  the  Spanish  School  are 
those  of  Velasquez  and  Murillo,  whom  I  shall  often  men- 
tion in  the  following  pages.  The  artists  of  Spain  have 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   REXAISSANCE.  137 

given  three  names  to  the  three  different  styles  adopted  by 
Murillo:  1.  Frio,  somewhat  hard  and  dry;  2.  Caldo,  shew- 
ing more  sentiment  and  passion ;  3.  Vaporoso,  "  misty," 
with  less  pronounced  outlines. 

This  handful  of  hints  and  notes  will  be  largely  supple- 
mented when  I  speak  of  particular  artists.  It  is  only 
intended  here  to  give  some  elementary  information  to 
such  readers  as  may  be  unfamiliar  with  the  history  of  Art. 
I  may  conclude  with  some  remarks  of  Mr.  Wyke  Bayliss, 
which  I  abbreviate  :  — 

"  Margaritone  may  be  called  the  forerunner ;  Cimabue, 
Giotto,  the  Van  Eycks,  and  Masaccio  the  evangelists; 
and  the  great  masters  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
centuries  the  apostles  of  Christian  Art.  For  what  was 
their  theme  but  Christ?  .  .  .  The  one  central  figure 
that  in  the  splendour  of  His  divine  beauty  has  con- 
secrated Art  forever,  was  it  not  that  of  the  Master? 
The  influence  of  religion  on  Art  is  not  limited  to  its 
direct  action  on  the  individual  worker;  it  reaches  fur- 
ther than  that.  It  governs  the  whole  drift  of  Art, 
bending  men  to  its  services,  though  individually  they 
rebel  against  its  precepts.  The  learning  of  Da  Vinci, 
the  versatility  of  Michael  Angelo,  the  impetuosity  of 
Tintoretto,  the  patience  of  Carlo  Dolci,  are  all  bent  to 
the  same  purpose. 

"  There  was  an  element  in  Christian  Art  that  classic  Art 
never  admitted  —  that  is,  suffering.  The  Christian  could 
not  leave  out  that  element  of  suffering;  it  had  become 
part  of  his  faith. 

"The  strength  of  classic  Art  had  been  ideal  beauty; 
the  strength  of  the  Renaissance  was  the  passion  of  ex- 
pression. .  .  .  But  in  this  passion  there  was  danger 
as  well  as  strength.  The  coldness  of  classic  Art  could 
not  keep  it  alive  ;  the  passion  of  the  Renaissance  did  not 
keep  it  pure,  and  in  its  corruption  what  a  degradation  it 
reached ! 


138  THE  LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

"  Mediaeval  Art  was  religious,  or  it  was  nothing.  Mediae- 
val Art,  in  its  first  splendour,  was  Art  transfigured  by  con- 
tact with  the  divine  character  and  person  of  Christ.  But 
it  sank  to  the  making  of  painted  images  to  be  dressed  in 
muslin." 1 

1  The  Witness  of  Art,  pp.  66  fg. 


BOOK  IY. 

CHEIST  AND  THE  VIRGIN  MOTHER. 


"  Riguarda  omai  nella  faccia  ch'  a  Cristo 

Piu  s'  assomiglia."  —  DANTE,  Parad.  XXXII.  85. 


THE    MADONNA   AND   CHILD. 

"Bright  angels  are  around  thee, 
They  that  have  served  thee  from  thy  birth  are  there  ; 
Their  hands  with  stars  have  crowned  thee  ; 
Thou,  peerless  queen  of  Air, 
As  sandals  to  thy  feet  the  silver  rnoon  dost  wear. ' ' 

—  LONGFELLOW. 

"  Out  of  all  the  hundred  fair  Madonnas, 
Seen  in  many  a  rich  and  distant  city, 
Sweet  Madonnas  with  the  mother's  bosom, 
Sad  Madonnas  with  the  eyes  of  anguish, 
Rapt  Madonnas  caught  in  clouds  to  heaven, 
Clouds  of  golden,  glad,  adoring  angels,  — 
She  of  Florence  in  the  Chair,  so  perfect ; 
She  that  was  the  Grand  Duke's  wealth  and  glory, 
She  that  makes  the  picture  of  the  Goldfinch  ; 
Ghirlandajo's,  with  the  cloak  and  jewels  ; 
Guide's  Queen  which  men  and  angels  worship ; 
Delia  Robbia's  best ;  and  that  sweet  Perla, 
Seville's  bright  boast,  Mary  of  Murillo 
(Painted,  so  they  vow,  with  milk  and  roses) ; 
Guido  Reni's  quadro  at  Bologna ; 
Munich's  masterpiece,  grim  Diirer's  goddess  ; 
Yes,  and  thy  brave  work,  Beltraffio  mio  — 
Many  as  the  lessons  are  I  owe  them 
Thanks  and  worship,  grateful  recollections, 
Oftenest  I  shall  think  of  Perugino's." 

—  SIR  E.  ARNOLD. 


THE  MADONNA. 

"Cosi  la  circulata  melodia 

Si  sigillava,  e  tutti  gli  altri  lumi 
Facean  sonar  lo  nome  di  Maria." 

-DANTE,  Farad.  XXIII.  109-111. 

THE  Virgin  Mary  occupies  a  vast  space  in  Christian  Art, 
and  is  inseparably  mixed  up  with  her  Divine  Son  as  an 
object  of  adoration  in  thousands  of  paintings  executed 
between  the  culmination  of  Byzantinism  and  the  Refor- 
mation. This  fact  alone  shews  how  completely  and  un- 
consciously the  art  of  an  epoch  is  the  reflexion  of  its 
beliefs. 

Very  little  is  told  us  in  the  Gospels,  and  nothing  else- 
where in  the  New  Testament,  about  the  Virgin  Mary ; 
but  as  the  Christian  ages  advanced  she  received  greater 
and  greater  prominence  in  the  thoughts  of  Christians. 
The  apocryphal  Gospels  have  many  legends  about  her. 
The  devotion  with  which  she  was  regarded  assumed  a 
special  development  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries. 
The  hymns  of  Fortunatus  and  St.  Ambrose — the  0  Grlori- 
osa  Domina,  and  Memento,  Salutis  auctor  —  are  full  of 
emotion.  St.  Epiphanius  was  a  fierce  enemy  of  the  Anti- 
dicomarianitse,  who  denied  the  perpetual  virginity,  and 
St.  Jerome  frantically  denounced  Helvidius,  who  shared 
their  opinion.  St.  Ephrem  Syrus  wrote  panegyrics  of  the 
Theotokos,  or  "Mother  of  God."  The  Virgin  begins  to 
be  a  chief  figure  in  the  church  mosaics.  The  Council  of 
Ephesus  (A.D.  431)  condemned  Nestorius  for  rejecting  the 
phrase  "Mother  of  God"  (Theotokos,  Deipara),  and  at 

141 


142  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

that  Council  St.  Cyril,  amid  enthusiastic  acclamations, 
burst  into  a  transport  of  eulogies  on  her  as  "  the  crown 
of  virginity,  the  sceptre  of  the  orthodox  faith,  the  treasure 
of  the  universe,  the  torch  which  could  never  be  quenched !" 
In  the  fifth  century  we  begin  to  find  pictures  of  the  Virgin, 
attributed  to  St.  Luke.  Hymns  were  written  in  her  honour, 
and  churches  dedicated  to  her  increased  in  number.  In 
the  seventh  century  the  popes  and  saints  vied  with  each 
other  in  doing  homage  to  her  name.  In  Byzantine  art  she 
took  her  established  place.  A  fresh  impulse  to  her  wor- 
ship was  given  by  St.  Bernard  in  the  twelfth  century.  He 
spoke  of  the  Virgin  as  negotium  sanctorum,  and  wrote 
the  Salve  Regina  in  her  honour.  St.  Dominic,  St.  Fran- 
cis, St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  religious  orders  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  were  her  ardent  worshippers.  The  mystics 
were  devoted  to  her,  and  the  hymn  of  Hugh  of  St.  Victor, 
Salve  Mater  Salvatoris,  became  very  popular.  Still  more 
popular  were  the  Stabat  mater  dolorosa  of  St.  Bonaven- 
tura,  and  the  Stabat  mater  speciosa  of  Jacopone.  The 
poets  prepared  the  way  for  the  painters,  and  each  great 
school  of  painting  measures  its  glory  by  the  beauty  of  its 
Madonnas,  — 

"  Who  so  above  all  mothers  shone, 
The  Mother  of  the  Blessed  One."  * 

If  we  can  rightly  appreciate  the  merits  and  defects  of 
the  chief  schools  and  the  chief  painters  in  the  representa- 
tion of  the  Madonna  and  Child,  we  shall  have  gained  no 
insignificant  glimpse  into  the  functions  and  the  history  of 
Art.  And  that  for  two  reasons :  — 

i.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  a  sort  of  test  subject.  It 
evidenced  alike  the  religious  feelings  of  individual  paint- 

1  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  lovely  sacredness  of  motherhood  in 
general  tended  to  the  incessant  treatment  of  this  subject.  On  Egyptian 
monuments  we  constantly  have  Isis  on  her  throne  nursing  Horus.  The 
Chinese  have  their  pictures  of  Tien-how,  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  nursing 
her  child,  who  holds  a  lotus-bud,  as  the  symbol  of  the  new  birth. 


THE  MADOXXA.  143 

ers,  and  the  highest  reach  to  which  they  could  attain. 
For  the  Virgin  is  the  human  mother  of  Him  who  was  the 
Word  of  God ;  and,  in  painting  the  Virgin  and  Child,  the 
painter  tried  to  shew  all  that  he  could  achieve  in  the  ex- 
pression of  Humanity  at  its  loveliest,  and  of  the  Divine 
in  human  form.  Even  if  the  inspiration  of  deep  religious 
feeling  is  absent  from  the  rendering  of  such  a  subject,  the 
painter  must,  at  the  very  lowest,  express  the  sanctity  of 
Motherhood  and  the  innocence  of  Infancy ;  and  to  do  this, 
and  nothing  more,  may  well  tax  the  powers  of  the  most 
consummate  genius. 

ii.  In  the  second  place,  in  every  new  Madonna  the 
painter  not  only  challenged  comparison  with  himself,  and 
with  all  his  contemporaries,  but  with  generations  of  artists 
during  many  centuries.  Thus,  as  Gruyer  says  in  his 
admirable  work  Les  Vierges  de  Raphael,  "legions  of  painters 
are  reunited  under  the  banner  of  Raphael.1  His  Vir- 
gins are  the  sovereign  expression  of  a  religious  idea, 
incessantly  pursued,  not  only  during  the  two  centuries  of 
the  Renaissance  (the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth),  but  also 
by  all  the  Christian  generations  from  the  Catacombs  down 
to  Giotto."  We  find  "  Madonnas  "  from  the  second(?)  to 
the  fifth  century.2  They  become  rare  from  that  time  till 
the  thirteenth,  but  were  produced  by  hundreds  between 
1294  and  1523.  The  manner  in  which  the  subject,  is 
treated  marks  every  improvement  of  process,  every  change 
of  conception,  every  powerful  influence  of  individuality, 
every  ripple  on  the  deep  ocean  of  religious  life. 

Mr.  Ruskin  bids  us  "  observe  this  broad  general  fact 
about  the  three  sorts  of  Madonnas." 

i.    There  is  first  the  Madonna  Dolorosa ;  the  Byzantine 

1  The  following  chapter  was  written  before  this  interesting  book  came 
into  my  hands ;  but  I  have  made  repeated  reference  to  Gruyer  in  its  final 
form. 

2  I  quote  Gruyer's  statement,  but  do  not  vouch  for  its  accuracy.     In 
the  Catacombs  the  figures  of  an  orante  —  usually  a  woman  with  arms 
outstretched  in  prayer,  often  a  type  of  the  Church  as  the  Bride  of  Christ 
—  have  been  mistaken  by  some  for  pictures  of  the  Virgin. 


144  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

type  and  Cimabue's.  It  is  the  noblest  of  all ;  and  the 
earliest  in  distinct  popular  influence. 

ii.  Secondly,  the  Madone  Reine,  which  essentially  re- 
presents the  Frank  and  Norinan  ideal ;  crowned,  calm,  and 
full  of  power  and  gentleness. 

iii.  Thirdly,  the  Madone  Nourrice,  which  is  the 
Raphaelesque,  and,  generally,  the  late  and  decadent  type. 
The  Vierge  Doree  on  the  South  Transept  Porch  of  Amiens, 
is  a  specimen  of  a  Mother  wholly  occupied  with  her  Child,1 
and  the  Virgin  of  the  West  Porch  is  a  fine  ideal  of  the 
Queen  of  Heaven. 

Further  than  this,  we  may  classify  Madonnas  under 
separate  heads  according  to  the  general  method  of  treat- 
ment :  — 

i.  There  is  the  Madonna  with  the  Child  alone,  the 
absolute  type  of  divine  maternity. 

ii.  The  Child  Baptist  is  introduced  as  though  for  a 
little  playmate  of  the  Child  Christ,  but  rather,  in  earlier 
painters,  to  connect  Jesus  with  the  prophecies  of  the  past, 
and  to  associate  all  Humanity  in  the  blessing  of  the  Son 
of  Man. 

iii.  When  St.  Joseph,  St.  Elizabeth,  St.  Anna,  also  join 
the  group,  it  is  called  a  Holy  Family. 

iv.    The  Madonna  is  represented  as  enthroned  in  glory. 

y.  The  Virgin  and  Child  are  surrounded  by  Saints,  who 
mingle  freely  together,  generally  in  some  fair  meadow 
scene.  The  picture  then  belongs  to  the  class  known  as 
Holy  Conversations. 

Each  Madonna,  besides  its  pictorial  value,  has  its  moral 
instructiveness.  "  Painting,"  as  Poussin  says,  "  is  an  image 
of  things  incorporeal,  rendered  sensible  by  corporeal  imita- 
tions." Thus  the  greatest  painter  is  the  one  who  most 
perfectly  unites  beauty  with  spirituality.2 

The  intensity  of  feeling  with  which  the  subject  was 
approached  finds  expression  in  the  beautiful  invocation  of 
Petrarca :  — 

1  The  Bible  of  Amiens,  p.  64.  2  Gruyer,  I.  viii. 


THE   MADONNA.  145 

"  Vergine  bella,  che  di  sol  vestita, 
Coronata  di  stelle,  al  soinmo  sole 
Piacesti  si,  che'  n  te  sua  luce  ascose 
Amor  mi  spinge  a  dir  di  te  parole." 1 

It  breathes,  also,  through   the    magnificent   invocation 
which  Dante  puts  into  the  mouth  of  St.  Bernard :  — 

"  Vergine  Madre,  figlia  del  tuo  Figlio, 
Umile  ed  alta  piu  che  creatura, 
Termiue  fisso  d'  eterno  consiglio ; 
Tu  se'  colei  che  1'  urn  an  a  natura 
Nbbilitasti  si,  che'  1  suo  Fattore 
N"on  disdegno  di  f  arsi  sua  f  attura."  2 

1  II.  Canz.  VIII. 

2  Paradiso,  XXXIII.  1-39.     The  lines  are  thus  translated  by  Dean 
Plumptre  :  — 

"  0  Virgin  Mother,  daughter  of  thy  Son, 

Lowlier  and  loftier  than  all  creatures  seen, 
Goal  of  the  counsels  of  the  Eternal  One  ; 
Thyself  art  She  who  this  our  nature  mean 
Hast  so  ennobled  that  its  Maker  great 
Deigned  to  become  what  through  it  made  had  been." 


I. 

THE  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

"  All  hath  been  told  her  touching  her  dear  Son, 
And  all  shall  be  accomplished :  where  He  sits 
Even  now,  a  Babe,  He  holds  the  symbol  fruit." 

—  D.  G.  ROSSETTI. 

"There  is  a  vision  in  the  heart  of  each 
Of  justice,  mercy,  wisdom,  tenderness 
To  wrong  and  pain,  and  knowledge  of  their  curse  ; 
And  these  embodied  in  a  woman's  form 
That  best  transmits  them  pure  as  first  received 
From  God  above  her,  to  mankind  below." 

—  R.  BROWNING. 

OF  all  the  various  types  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  there 
is  not  one  of  which  hundreds  of  specimens  have  not  been 
produced  during  the  long  career  of  Christian  Art, 

The  earliest  type  is  Byzantine,  which  remained  more  or 
less  unchangeable  for  many  centuries.  The  face  of  the 
Virgin  is  always  dark,  sometimes  even  black,  with  allusion 
to  the  verse  "I  am  black,  but  comely,  ye  daughters  of 
Jerusalem,  as  the  tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of 
Solomon."  "  She  is  depicted  as  a  matron  of  middle  age, 
with  her  right  hand  raised  in  the  act  of  benediction,  a 
veil  upon  her  head,  which  is  encircled  with  the  nimbus; 
upon  her  lap  is  seated  an  already  well  grown  and  fully 
clothed  child,  also  in  act  of  benediction."1 

The  Child  —  partly  perhaps  from  the  lack  of  skill  in  the 
ancient  painters,  but  more  from  their  adoring  reverence  — 
never  has  any  of  the  attributes  of  childhood,  and  scarcely 

1  Kugler,  Handbook  of  Painting,  I.  39. 
146 


THE   MATER  DOLOROSA.  147 

even  approaches  (except  in  smallness  of  size)  to  the  child- 
like form. 

We  see  at  a  glance  the  immense  change  of  feeling  which 
dominates  the  pictures  of  the  Renaissance.  In  that  age  the 
main  effort  is  to  make  the  Virgin  not  so  much  majestic  as 
supremely  beautiful.  The  gladness  of  maternity  displaces 
the  gloom  of  awful  convictions,  and  the  sense  of  the  pro- 
phetic words  "  Yea,  a  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine  own 
heart  also."  The  hair  is  no  longer  covered,  nor  the  feet 
concealed.  Realism  would  have  despised  such  conven- 
tionsj  as  due  only  to  superstition.  The  Child  becomes  a 
child  in  all  the  unconscious  feebleness  and  babbling  joy  of 
infancy.  In  the  pictures  of  Andrea  del  Sarto  and  many 
others  the  painters  have  not  even  shrunk  from  represent- 
ing the  Divine  Child  with  an  expression  of  espieglerie. 
Such  pictures  could  not  be  in  any  deep  sense  devotional. 
They  aimed  at  giving  the  artist's  conception  of  the  fact ; 
they  forgot  that  the  fact  was  also  a  great  Idea.  They 
represent  a  Mother  and  Child,  and  scarcely  pretend  to 
remind  the  spectator  that  the  Mother  was  blessed  among 
women  and  that  the  little  naked  new  born  Babe  was  "the 
Lord  of  Time  and  all  the  worlds." 

Even  in  Cimabue  and  Duccio  we  mark  the  decisive 
commencement  of  this  change.  In  them  Art  has  already 
begun  "  to  break  the  chains  of  dogmatic  conventionalism 
in  which  theology  had  bound  it,  and  to  take  for  models 
the  living  Mother  and  Babe."  The  progress  is  strikingly 
marked  in  Duccio's  Madonna  in  our  National  Gallery. 
Here  the  Child  is  no  longer  depicted  in  the  formal  act  of 
giving  the  priestly  benediction,  but,  with  a  thoroughly 
human  impulse,  is  tenderly  drawing  aside  the  veil  from  His 
mother's  face,  that  He  may  look  into  it,  and  the  Angels 
may  adore.1  "This  is  an  incident,"  it  has  been  said,  "in- 
significant in  itself,  but  important  as  shewing  a  tendency ; 
—  a  tendency  which  is  soon  to  give  a  new  aspect  to  the 
Virgin  and  Child,  and  introduce  us  to  the  Holy  Family." 
1  See  the  woodcut  of  this  picture  already  given. 


148  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

"  The  Virgins  which  preside  over  the  basilicas  of  the 
sixth  to  the  eighth  centuries,"  says  Grayer,  "  represent  faith- 
fully the  epochs  of  their  production.  They  reflect  the 
almost  savage  harshness  of  an  age  of  blood ;  they  repeat 
the  despair  and  desolation  of  terrible  times."1  Such 
language  is  only  partially  true.  Any  one  who  has  stood 
in  the  old  desolate  church  of  San  Donato  at  Murano,  and 
gazed  on  the  tall  figure  of  the  Virgin  with  her  folded 
palms  and  the  tears  on  either  cheek,  which  stands  out  on 
the  gold  ground  of  the  ancient  mosaic  over  the  arch,  will 
surely  feel  some  of  the  mysterious  and  immense  attractive- 
ness with  which  such  a  figure  appealed  to  the  imagination 
of  the  mediaeval  worshippers.  The  central  idea  expressed 
in  such  a  representation  is  the  gentleness,  the  tenderness, 
the  compassion  of  womanhood,  idealized  with  adorable  grace 
by  the  troubled  hearts  of  millions  whose  consciences  made 
them  afraid.  Men  erred,  indeed,  utterly  in  regarding 
Mary  as  more  merciful  than  the  Lord  of  Life,  but  there 
are  idolatries  ten  times  more  deadly  than  "the  loving  errors 
made  by  generations  of  God's  simple  children."  The  sor- 
rows of  mankind  have  perpetuated  this  type.  The  sense 
that  even  the  Blessed  Virgin  had  learnt  pity  by  the  suf- 
fering of  anguish  is  the  origin  of  the  wretched  dolls  which 
may  be  seen  in  hundreds  of  continental  churches,  where 
the  Madonna  is  rudely  imaged  "  with  seven  swords  stuck 
in  her  heart."  In  pictures  and  images  which  human  beings 
practically  worship  they  do  not  look  for  loveliness,  but  for 
effective  symbolism.  In  the  Church  of  Saronno  the  peas- 
ants hardly  care  to  gaze  upon  the  beautiful  frescoes  of 
Luini,  but  they  will  wait  for  hours  on  the  chance  of  seeing 
the  rude  and  shapeless  image  of  the  Madonna  dei  Miracoli. 
It  was  to  no  lovely  Madonna  of  Raphael,  but  to  an  old 
black  image  of  the  Virgin  at  Toledo,  that  Ignatius  Loyola 
consecrated  his  abandoned  sword. 

Of  the  Madonna  Dolorosa  there  are  two  lovely  speci- 
mens in  our  National  Gallery. 

1  Grayer,  Les  Vierges  de  Raphael,  I.  93. 


THE   MATER   DOLOROSA. 


149 


One  of  these  is  the  famous  tondo  of  Sandro  Botticelli.1 
Those  who  only  look  at  his  Spring,  or  Venus  rising 
from  the  Sea,  might  think  that  the  painter's  soul  was  full 
of  joy  ;  but  a  picture  like  this  shews  how  deep  and  dark 
were  the  shadows  flung  by  the  Renaissance ;  how  terrible 
were  the  troubles  stirred  up  by  the  feverish  unrest  of  the 
doubts  and  passions  which  it  let  loose. 


Madonna  Dolorosa.     (Botticelli.) 

In  this  lovely  picture,  of  which  the  fascination  grows 
continually  on  those  who  gaze  at  it,  the  Virgin  is  giving 
her  breast  to  the  unweaned  Child.2  A  long-haired,  youth- 

1  N.  G.  275. 

2  The  picture  might,  therefore,  be  classed  with  those  of  the  third  type 


150  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

ful  angel,  his  face  full  of  sorrow,  bows  his  head  and  folds 
his  arms  in  adoration ;  on  the  other  side,  a  second  angel 
turns  upwards  his  melancholy  gaze  towards  the  Mother. 
Her  eyes  and  her  thoughts  are  far  away.  She  is  not  look- 
ing at  the  Child  upon  her  breast ;  apparently  she  is  not 
even  thinking  of  Him  ;  or  if  she  is,  she  thinks  only  of 
His  sufferings.  Even  the  angels,  lovely  as  they  are,  shew 
an  almost  human  despair  in  their  angelic  hearts.  They 
are  wholly  unlike  the  incarnate  Innocencies  of  Fra  An- 
gelico,  with  their  robes  of  tender  hues,  and  their  maii}-- 
coloured,  sunlit  wings.  Still  less  do  they  resemble  the 
radiant  child-denizens  of  heaven,  as  Bellini,  Raphael, 
Francia,  Carpaccio,  or  Boccati  painted  them.  As  we  look 
at  them,  we  almost  fancy  that  they  will  burst  into  "  such 
tears  as  angels  weep,"  and  that  such  tears  must  often 
have  coursed  each  other  down  their  pale  and  melancholy 
cheeks. 

Still  more  pathetic  in  its  hopelessness  is  the  expression 
of  the  Virgin.  It  has  none  of  the  fervent  passion  of 
maternity,  none  of  the  rapt  joyance  of  the  Magnificat ; 
but  there  is  an  infinite  yearning  in  the  far-off  gaze.  As 
in  Botticelli's  Madonna  in  the  Uflfizi,  this  Virgin  is  bowed 
down  with  deepest  woe.1  The  large,  open  eyes  seem 
drowned  in  tears,  as  though  she  were  devoting  herself  and 
her  Son  for  the  Human  Race.  Yet,  amid  her  agony,  she 
more  than  keeps  her  beauty.  "  Is  not  the  riddle  of  the 
human  race  contained  in  such  pictures?"  asks  Gruyer. 
"  Are  not  these  Virgins  sad  with  the  unconquerable  sad- 
ness which  man  everywhere  carries  with  him,  while  their 
brow  is  radiant,  at  the  same  time,  with  the  hope  which 
constantly  reinspires  us?  This  need  of  infinitude  which 
momently  torments  and  elevates  us,  is  a  sure  guarantee  of 

—  the  Vergine  Lattante  ;  but  its  other  quality  —  that  of  sadness  —  is  more 
distinctive.  Mr.  Symonds  (New  Review,  May,  1893)  talks  of  the  Vir- 
gin's "beaute  maladive"  and  "  yeux  mcurtris." 

1  The  tondo  form  of  pictures,  like  those  of  Botticelli  in  the  Uffizi  and 
the  National  Gallery,  became  popular,  Morelli  tells  us,  after  Luca  Delia 
Robbia  had  used  it  for  his  terra-cotta  groups. 


THE   MATER  DOLOROSA.  151 

our  immortality."  l  Florence  was  far  more  deeply  moved 
than  was  the  gayer-hearted  Venice,  by  the  moral  and  in- 
tellectual upheaval  of  Renaissance  impulses. 

We  may  here  pause  for  a  moment  to  account  for  this 
predominant  sorrowfulness  of  Botticelli's  pictures. 

Perhaps  it  rose  from  "  the  troublous  times  of  Italy  "  in 
which  he  lived.  Great  tempests  swept  over  him  when  the 
prophet-voice  of  Savonarola  woke  his  spirit  as  with  the 
thunders  of  Sinai,  and  won  over  this  child  of  the  Renais- 
sance to  join  the  mortified  ranks  of  the  Piagnoni.  Or, 
perhaps,  the  sadness  resulted  from  the  conflict  in  his  heart 
between  the  influence  of  the  Renaissance,  with  its  half- 
Pagan  classicalism  and  its  deifications  of  natural  im- 
pulses, and  the  Christian  feeling  deepened  by  the  perils 
of  the  age,  the  Plague  of  Florence  (1475-1480),  and  the 
preaching  of  the  great  Dominican  of  San  Marco.  Mr. 
Ruskin  says  that  "there  is  upon  Botticelli's  pictures  at 
once  the  joy  of  Resurrection  and  the  solemnity  of  the 
grave."  2 

Very  different,  and  in  my  judgment  utterly  alien  from 
Botticelli's  real  feelings,  is  the  explanation  offered  by 
Mr.  Pater.3  He  thinks  that  it  is  the  human  affections  of 
the  Virgin  that  make  her  shrink  from  her  Divine  Exalta- 
tion. According  to  him,  Botticelli's  Virgin  is  making 
"  the  great  refusal,"  rather  than  crying  in  rapt  obedience 
"  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord ;  let  Him  do  unto  me 
as  seemeth  Him  good."  "  You  may  have  thought,"  he 
says,  "  there  was  something  mean  and  abject  in  the  Virgin, 
for  the  lines  of  the  face  have  little  nobleness,  and  the 
colour  is  wan.  For  with  Botticelli,  she  too,  though  she 
holds  in  her  hands  the  Desire  of  all  Nations,  is  one  of 
those  who  is  neither  for  God  nor  for  His  enemies,  and  her 

1  Les  Vierges  de  Raphael,  I.  272. 

2  See  Ariadne  Florentina,   p.    161 ;    Fors   Clavigera,  Letter  XXII. 
Botticelli  "shews  the  mystic  spirit  of  mediaeval  times  blended  with  the 
freedom  of  modern  thought,  and  the  delicate  charm  of  the  young  Renais- 
sance deepened  by  the  severity  of  a  former  age." — Portfolio,  XIII.  58. 

3  Studies  of  the  Renaissance. 


152  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

choice  is  on  her  face.  She  shrinks  from  the  presence  of 
the  Divine  Child,  and  pleads,  in  unmistakable  undertones, 
for  a  warmer,  lower  humanity." 

To  me  it  seems  that  Botticelli  would  have  shuddered  at 
attributing  to  the  Virgin  so  base  a  shrinking  from  her  high 
destiny.  A  loving  and  reverent  student  of  Dante,  and 
one  to  whom  the  Madonna  was  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  it 
is  inconceivable  that  he  could  have  classed  her  with  the 
objects  of  the  utmost  scorn  of  the  poet  of  the  Inferno  — 
with  those  who,  whirled  round  and  round  the  limbo  of  the 
despicable,  rejected  by  Heaven,  and  despised  even  by  Hell, 
follow  forevermore  the  aimless  flutter  of  the  sooty  flag  of 
Acheron.  Surely  it  would  be  far  more  reasonable  to  infer 
that  the  gloom  of  Botticelli's  pictures  is  due  partly  to  the 
deep  vein  of  melancholy  in  his  own  temperament,  partly  to 
the  awful  tragedies  which  he  had  witnessed.  He  had  seen 
the  martyrdom  of  Savonarola,  and  the  grimly  tragic  fate 
of  Simonetta,  whom  he  paints  in  his  Spring,  and  of  Giuli- 
ano  de'  Medici,  whom  he  had  painted  as  a  boy-angel  in  his 
Madonna  in  the  Uffizi.  His  mood  accorded,  too,  with  the 
religious  temper  of  his  day,  which  saw  in  the  examples  of 
men  like  St.  Dominic  and  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  a  mixture 
of  rapturous  blessedness  and  keenest  woes. 

In  Botticelli's  Uffizi  Coronation  of  the  Madonna,  we 
have  one  of  his  most  characteristic  pictures,  marked  by  all 
the  "silent  melancholy  expressed  by  the  face  of  the  Virgin, 
and  an  eager  service  in  childlike  saints  and  angels,  attend- 
ing for  the  performance  of  the  simplest  offices."  l  Two 
angels  are  holding  a  crown,  to  which  is  attached  a  floating 
veil,  over  the  head  of  the  intensely  sorrowful  Mother. 
They  are  not  exquisite,  heavenly  beings,  or  radiant  child- 
ren, but  are  boys  on  the  verge  of  youth,  with  long  tresses, 

1  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  II.  416.  "  As  though  human  Mother  and 
Divine  Child  were  anticipating  the  inevitable  pangs  of  destiny  too  high 
for  woman,  too  humiliating  for  Deity,  the  calm  profound  of  early  twilight 
in  clear  sky,  and  the  finely  outlined  leaves  of  roses  and  stems  of  palm- 
trees  silhouetted  against  lucid  light,  making  a  fit  background  for  their  love 
and  resignation." — J.  A.  Symonds,  New  Review,  May,  1883. 


THE   MATER  DOLOROSA.  153 

dark  or  fair.  The  Virgin  is  about  to  write  the  Magnificat 
in  a  book,  and  two  other  angels  hold  the  inkstand,  and 
seem  full  of  earnest  curiosity.  One  of  the  two  others, 
who  is  holding  the  crown,  looks  over  their  shoulders.  The 
Child  lays  one  hand  on  the  open  book  and  in  the  other 
holds  a  ripe  and  bursting  pomegranate.  He  is  looking 
upward  at  His  mother  with  loving  solicitude.1  Nothing 
could  less  resemble  the  expression  of  the  Virgin's  features 
than  the  words  which  she  is  supposed  to  be  writing,  "  My 
soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in 
God  my  Saviour." 

Other  ideals  of  the  Virgin,  in  which  the  Madonna 
Dolorosa  is  not  always  distinguishable  from  the  Ma- 
done  Nourrice,  are  seen  in  the  lovely  pictures  of  Gio- 
vanni Bellini.  If  these  be  less  powerful  than  the  Virgins 
of  Michael  Angelo,  they  are  far  more  enchanting.  We 
have  one  noble  specimen  in  our  National  Gallery,  —  the 
Madonna  of  the  Pomegranate.  It  shews  us  that  the 
devotional  sincerity  which  breathes  through  all  Bellini's 
pictures  is  not  incompatible  with  widening  knowledge  and 
advancing  skill. 

The  Virgin  supports  the  Child  on  her  right  arm,  while 
in  her  left  hand  she  holds  a  pomegranate,  on  which  the 
right  hand  of  the  Infant  Christ  is  resting.  Their  heads 
are  thrown  into  relief  by  a  green  curtain  with  a  red 
border.  In  the  background  is  a  landscape.  Both  heads 
are  full  of  the  noblest  pathos.  In  this  picture  there  is 
obviously  something  deeper  than  in  Angelico's  radiant 
Madonna  of  the  Star.  There  is  human  feeling  and 
expression  and  anxiously  awakened  thought.  The  pome- 
granate symbolizes  the  coming  cross  and  passion,  prefigured 
by  the  blood-red  heart  of  the  fruit.2  This  is  the  signifi- 

1  See  "Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  169 ;  Dohme,  p.  48. 

-  In  Fra  Lippo's  Madonna  in  the  Pitti,  the  Virgin  holds  a  half-open 
pomegranate,  which  the  Child  grasps  in  His  right  hand,  while  He  holds 
up  some  of  the  crimson  seeds  in  His  left.  The  incident  is  indeed  com- 
mon. The  Child  holds  a  pomegranate  in  Botticelli's  Madonna  in  the 
Uffizi,  and  he  introduces  the  same  motive  into  many  of  his  pictures  (as 


154  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

cance  given  to  it  in  some  lines  on  this  picture  in  Love  in 
Idleness  (1883):- 

"  Years  pass  and  change ;  Mother  and  Child  remain : 

Mother  so  proudly  sad,  so  sadly  wise, 

With  perfect  face  and  wonderful,  calm  eyes, 
Full  of  a  mute  expectancy  of  pain  ; 
Child,  of  whose  love  the  mother  seems  so  fain, 

Looking  far  off  as  if  in  other  skies. 

He  saw  the  hill  of  Crucifixion  rise, 
And  knew  the  horror  and  would  not  refrain."1 

But  the  symbolism  of  the  pomegranate  is  manifold. 
Browning  called  one  of  the  early  collections  of  his  poems 
Bells  and  Pomegranates.  He  explained  that  he  did  so 
—  not  because,  as  Mrs.  Barrett  Browning  sings  in  G-erald- 
ine's  Courtship,  this  fruit, 

"  if  cut  deep  down  the  middle, 
Shews  a  heart  within  blood-tinctured,  of  a  veined  humanity  " 

but  because  the  pomegranate  was  an  ancient  symbol  of 
good  works.  This  perhaps  was  the  reason  why  Giotto 
places  a  pomegranate  in  the  hand  of  Dante  in  his  Bargello 
picture,  and  why  Raphael  "crowns  his  Theology  with  a 
garland  of  the  same." 

Even  the  simplest  Madonnas  of  Bellini  are  inimitable. 
He  scarcely  ever  painted  a  more  simple  one  than  the 
Madonna  of  the  Doves  which  is  in  the  Duomo,  behind  the 
altar  at  Bergamo.  Some  guide-books  speak  of  the  Duomo 
as  hardly  worth  visiting.  Not  to  speak  of  its  splendid 
marble  work,  its  magnificent  ambos  of  marble  and  bronze, 

in  no  fewer  than  four  at  the  New  Gallery,  1894).  Sometimes  an  angel 
presents  the  fruit  to  Him ;  sometimes  it  lies  at  His  feet.  In  the  lovely 
Francia  of  the  National  Gallery  (No.  179),  St.  Anne  offers  to  the  infant 
Child  a  peach,  symbolical,  perhaps,  of  "  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit."  In  the 
Madonna  of  Montagna  (No.  802),  the  Child  holds  a  cherry  or  a  strawberry. 
Often,  as  in  Raphael's  Madonna  of  the  Pink,  and  in  Previtali's  (No.  695), 
He  holds  a  flower. 

1  Quoted  by  Mr.  E.  T.  Cook,  in  his  admirable  Popular  Handbook  to 
the  National  Gallery. 


MADONNA  OF  THE  POMEGRANATE. 
From  the  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


Bellini. 


THE   MATER  DOLOROSA.  155 

and  other  glories,  it  contains  several  fine  pictures  ;  but 
this  little  Madonna  alone  most  amply  repays  a  visit. 
The  Virgin  in  a  dress  of  brown  and  white  is  standing  with 
her  hands  folded  in  prayer.  The  Child,  which  even  Bel- 
lini never  surpassed  for  perfect  and  divine  loveliness,  is 
seated  on  a  dark  blue  cushion,  and  is  drawing  with  His  left 
hand  a  thin  robe  of  red  round  His  naked  body,  while  He 
leans  over  and  looks  down  at  the  wicker  basket  in  which 
are  the  two  doves  — •  Mary's  offering  of  purification.  Two 
white  feathers  are  lying  on  the  ledge  which  forms  the 
front  of  the  picture.1 

The  only  two  painters  who  for  exquisite  charm  and  un- 
varying devoutness  were  never  surpassed  even  by  Raphael 
at  his  best,  are  Giovanni  Bellini  and  Bernardino  Luini. 
Bellini  loses  nothing  by  comparison  with  his  friends  and 
pupils  Giorgione,  Titian,  Cima,  Palma  Vecchio,  or  Lorenzo 
Lotto,  of  whom  the  last  comes  nearest  to  him  in  the  sense 
of  holiness  diffused  over  his  pictures.  Luini's  "golden 
pencil "  may  sustain  favourable  comparison  with  that  of 
his  master  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  to  whom  several  of  his 
works  have  been  attributed  for  years.  Of  some  of  his 
Madonnas  I  shall  speak  later.  In  their  expressiveness 
they  stand  midway  between  the  old,  solemn  Byzantine 
type  of  our  Lady  of  Sorrows  and  the  more  familiar  one 
of  the  Madone  Nourrice  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
centuries. 

There  came  a  time  when,  by  a  sort  of  reaction  from  the 
coarseness  and  irreverence  of  some  of  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  century  painters,  Religion  again  asserted 
itself.  But  it  was  a  religion  without  glow,  without  force, 
without  spontaneity.  It  became  manneristic,  affected, 
sentimental,  full  of  posturing  grace  and  sugared  pret- 

1  Sir  C.  Eastlake,  The  Royal  Gallery  at  Venice,  p.  26,  says :  "  In  the 
Madonna's  dark  brown,  thoughtful  eyes,  delicately  pencilled  brow,  full, 
round  throat,  and  finely  modelled  chin,  we  find  that  exquisite  ideal  of 
womanhood  in  which  the  beauty  of  faultless  features  is  enhanced  by 
dignity  and  innocence,  an  ideal  which  is  all  Bellini's  own." 


156 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


tiness.  We  have  specimens  of  such  work  in  the  Madon- 
nas of  Carlo  Dolci  (f  1686)  and  of  Sassoferrato  (f  1685). 
They  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  art  of  Bellini  and 
Mantegna  as  Euphuism  or  the  Delia  Cruscan  school  of 
English  Literature  bear  to  Shakespeare  and  Milton. 


Madonna  Dolorosa.     (Carlo  Dolci.) 


We   here    reproduce   the  Virgin   and  Child   by   Carlo 
Dolci.     The  Virgin  is  presenting  flowers  from  a  basket 


THE   MATER  DOLOROSA.  157 

to   the    Divine   Infant,  around  whom   she   holds  a  loose 
veil.1 

Sassoferrato  was  one  of  the  Carraccisti,  or  followers  of 
the  Eclectic  School  of  the  Carraccis,  but  he  copied  many 
other  painters,  and  his  Madonna  very  clearly  illustrates 
uthe  distinction  between  sentimentality  and  sentiment. 
The  cheeks  of  his  Virgins  are  often  wet  with  tears,  but 
their  soft  nullity  stirs  no  such  answering  feeling  in  our 
hearts  as  is  at  once  awakened  by  the  work  of  a  Botticelli 
or  Bellini." 

1  N.  G.  934.  See  Modern  Painters,  III.  "  Carlo  Dolci  est  le  repre- 
sentant  veritable  de  ce  qu'on  appelle  Vart  jesuite.  Sa  peinture  affadie  et 
doucereuse  exprime  quelquefois  les  sentiments  tendres,  mais  le  plus 
souvent  des  airs  de  beatitude  qui  touchent  a  la  niaiserie.  L'art  n'a  pas 
grand'chose  a  voir  dans  cette  fagon  de  peindre  accessible  au  premier 
seniinariste  qui  aura  la  patience  de  blairfiauter  ses  couleurs  dans  cette 
maniere  polie,  onctueuse,  et  ivoivee  qui  caracterise  1'Italien  Carlo  Dolci- 
et  1'Hollandais  Van  der  Werff."  — Charles  Blanc. 


II. 

THE  MADONNA  REGINA. 

"  Indi  rimaser  11  nel  mio  cospetto 
Eegina  coeli  cantando  si  dolce 
Che  mai  da  me  non  si  parti  il  diletto." 

—  DANTE,  Farad.  XXIII.  127-129. 

THE  two  former  types  of  the  Madonna  may  claim  a  more 
or  less  close  connexion  with  the  life  of  Christ,  but  the 
pictures  of  the  Madonna  as  Queen  of  Heaven,  as  the 
Mother  of  Wisdom,  the  Mother  of  Victory,  or  the  Mother 
of  Mercy,  bear  almost  exclusively  on  the  honour  of  the 
Virgin.1  For  this  reason  I  will  dwell  but  briefly  on  this 
predominantly  French  and  Norman  type. 

I  could  give  no  purer  or  sweeter  specimen  of  the 
Madonna  Regina  than  Fra  Angelico's  Madonna  of  the 
Star  in  the  monastery  of  San  Marco  at  Venice. 

In  the  pictures  of  the  blessed  and  angelic  painter  we  see 
an  immense  advance  of  technical  skill  beyond  that  of  the 
Giotteschi,  with  a  yet  more  absolute  dominance  of  religious 
devotion.  Perhaps  the  world  never  produced  a  saintlier, 
sweeter  soul  —  a  soul  more  childlike  in  its  purity  —  than 
that  of  Fra  Angelico.  The  inspiration  of  love,  of  inno- 
cence, of  purity,  of  faith,  of  divine  communion,  breathes 
from  every  colour  and  every  face  of  his  soft,  silent 
pictures. 

His  Madonna  of  the  Star  is  a  picture  exquisitely  sim- 

1  Pictures  like  Titian's  great  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  at  Venice  do 
not  enter  into  my  subject. 

158 


MADONNA   KK<;IXA.  Fra  Arujclko. 

From  tin-  I'icturi-  in  tin-  Monastery  of  San  Marco,  Venice. 


THE   MADONNA   REGINA.  159 

pie  and  entirely  ideal.1  He  had,  of  course,  no  thought 
of  representing  the  Virgin  and  Child  as  they  really  were 
in  the  days  of  Christ's  Humanity.  He  only  sets  forth  in 
perfect  loveliness  the  Divine  Conceptions  of  glorified 
Motherhood,  glorified  Virginity,  glorified  Infancy  —  of  all 
Humanity  glorified  by  being  uplifted  into  direct  com- 
munion with  God.  The  Mother  and  the  Child  are  sur- 
rounded by  the  radiant  mandorla  from  head  to  foot,  and 
over  this  encircling  aureole  hangs  a  golden  crown.2  The 
Virgin  is  symbolically  clad  in  a  mantle  of  blue.3  It  falls 
around  her  in  folds  of  exquisite  dignity  and  symmetry, 
and  is  clasped  at  the  breast  by  a  flower-shaped  brooch.  It 
comes  over  the  head,  almost  concealing  her  golden  hair, 
and  above  the  forehead  it  is  lit  up  by  a  radiant  star.  In 
her  arms  is  the  Holy  Child,  but  neither  the  face  nor  the 
form  are  those  of  a  child.  The  nimbus  round  His  head  is 
broken  by  a  red  Maltese  cross.  The  face  of  the  Virgin  is 
infantile,  angelic,  immaculately  divine  in  its  transparent 
innocence  and  chastity.  It  is  full  of  mingled  meekness 
and  majesty,  "  with  none  either  of  the  complacent  exulta- 
tion or  petty  watchfulness  of  maternity ;  yet  her  peace  is 

1  "  The  simple  monk  worked  out  his  own  ideal  — 
And  were  there  ever  forms  more  heavenly  fair  ? 
Nay,  from  the  life  the  ineffable  angels  there 
Seem  limned  and  coloured  by  their  servant  leal. 
What  was  his  charm  ?    Whence  the  inflowing  grace  ? 
The  beauty  of  holiness  !    His  child-soul  dreamed 
Where  psalm  and  censer  filled  the  holy  place, 
Till  to  take  shape  the  mist  the  music  seemed." 

—  ANON. 

2  An  aureole  is  a  glory  round  the  whole  body  ;  the  nimbus  surrounds 
the  head  only.     When  the  figure  stands  erect,  and  the  glory  is  almond- 
shaped,  it  is  called  a  mandorla  or  vesica  piscis. 

3  This  was  the  all  but  invariable  rule  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  Dante 
alludes  to  it  in  the  lines,  — 

"  Onde  si  coronava  il  bel  zafliro, 
Del  quale  il  Ciel  piu  chiaro  s'  inzaflira." 

—  Parad.  XXIII.  101. 

But  in  many  of  the  older  pictures  (as  in  one  by  Angiolo  Gaddi)  the 
Virgin  is  painted  in  yellow  to  represent  gold  ("  Her  vesture  is  of  wrought 
gold").  In  a  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  by  Giotto  (New  Gallery,  1894), 
she  is  in  white  robes  edged  with  black. 


160  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN    ART. 

mingled  with  sorrow,  as  if  the  promise  of  the  Angel  were 
already  underwritten  'by  the  prophecy  of  Simeon."  The 
whole  effect  of  the  picture  is  to  purify  and  to  ennoble,  but 
it  is  the  work  of  a  painter  who,  even  in  his  own  days, 
belonged  to  a  holier  past  —  a  past  which,  despite  its  imma- 
turity, seems  as  enchanting  and  as  irrecoverable  as  the 
flowers  of  spring.  Such  pictures  can  only  be  painted  in 
the  glow  of  inspiration.  These  pure  and  sinless  faces 
could  only  have  been  seen  in  the  visions  granted  to  the 
rapture  of  prayer. 

As  other  specimens  of  the  Queen  Virgin  we  may  re- 
fer to  one  by  Martin  Schongauer,  and  two  by  Albrecht 
Diirer. 

Schongauer's  Madonna  in  Rosenhag  is  in  the  church  of 
St.  Martin  at  Colmar.  It  was  painted  in  1473.  Here,  as 
in  Luini's  Madonna  of  the  Rose-trellis,  at  Milan,  there  is  a 
bower  of  lovely  roses.1  It  stands  out  on  the  gold  ground 
of  the  picture,  and  there  are  many  birds  among  the  flowers. 
The  Virgin  seems  lost  in  sorrowful  thought.  Two  angels, 
as  is  so  common  in  the  German  pictures,  float  over  her 
head,  holding  a  splendid  crown.  She  holds  in  her  arms 
the  naked  Child,  who  has  laid  one  arm  around  her  neck 
and  half  hides  His  little  hands  in  her  dark,  dishevelled 
hair.  At  her  feet  grows  a  strawberry  plant  with  its  three 
symbolic  leaves. 

Two  of  Albrecht  Diirer's  are  specially  famous.  One  is 
the  Madonna  of  the  Crescent  Moon,  in  his  Life  of  the 
Virgin.  It  occurs  in  several  forms.  In  one  of  these, 
which  is  undated  but  early,  the  Virgin's  hair  flows  behind 
her.  In  that  of  1514,  known  as  The  Virgin  with  the  Short 

1  Sir  Frederic  Leighton  says:  "The  greatest  precursor  of  the  riper 
and  more  accomplished  art  of  Albert  Diirer  was,  without  doubt,  Martin 
Schongauer,  of  Colmar,  whose  Madonna  in  the  Hose-bower^  now  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Martin  of  that  city,  is  a  work  of  strange  nobility  and  force, 
—  a  painting  Flemish,  indeed,  in  its  inspiration,  but  with  something  also 
of  Southern  gravity  and  repose,  which  is  never  absent  from  his  work, 
and  which  we  shall  miss  in  the  far  completer  art  of  his  famous  successor, 
Durer."  —  Speech  at  the  Royal  Academy,  Dec.  9,  1893. 


THE   MADOXXA   KEGIXA. 


161 


JSair,  she  holds  a  fruit.     In  those  of  1508  and  1516  she 
has  a  crown  of  stars. 

The  other  is  the  Coronation  in  the  Garden.  It  is  dated 
1518.  The  Virgin,  a  magnificent  maiden,  in  a  rich  robe 
fringed  with  fur,  turns  her  beautiful  head  to  the  right. 


••  Madonna  Kegina  of  the  Crescent  Moon."     (Durer.) 

Her  long  and  flowing  curls  are  crowned  with  closely- 
woven  roses.  Her  right  hand  holds  a  pear.  The  little 
Child  is  on  her  knees.  With  His  right  hand  He  grasps 
the  border  of  her  robe  beneath  her  neck,  in  an  attitude 
like  that  of  Raphael's  Panshanger  Madonna.  Over  her 
head  two  floating  angels  hold  a  regal  crown.  She  sits  in  a 
*'  garden  enclosed,"  behind  which  is  a  lovely  landscape. 


III. 

THE   MADONE   NOUKRICE. 

"  Matris  habet  gremium, 
Quern  et  Patris  solium  ; 
Virgo  natum  consolatur 
Et  ut  Deum  veneratur." 

—  PETR.  VERAB.  De  Nativ  Domini. 

THE  vast  majority  of  the  Italian  Madonnas  painted  after 
the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century  fall  under  this 
third  type,  in  which  the  Virgin  is  neither  woe-stricken  nor 
enthroned,  but  is  simply  the  type  of  Divine  Motherhood. 
Often,  as  in  Botticelli's  ton  do  in  our  Gallery,  she  is  giving 
her  breast  to  the  Holy  Infant. 

"  Matris  alitur  intactae 
Puer  Deus  sacro  lacte 
Res  stupenda  saeculis." 

Our  chief  specimens  of  the  Mother  and  Child  may  be 
furnished  by  two  very  different,  but  almost  contempo- 
rary painters,  —  RAPHAEL  (1483-1520)  l  and  BERNARDINO 
LUINI  (14757-1533?).  It  would,  however,  be  ungrateful 
not  to  allude  first  to  what  Morelli  calls  the  "  chaste  God- 
fraught  Madonnas "  of  Perugino.  They  are  placed  by 
Perugino  in  landscapes  with  a  calm  heaven,  and  sweet 
light,  and  silver  water,  and  tender  foliage,  "  which,  in  his 
pictures,  heighten  the  mood  awakened  in  us  by  his  mar- 

1  "Rafael  hat  einen  Zauber  der  Linie,  eine  Welle,  ein  Oval  der  Kopfe, 
ein  Neigen,  Beugen  des  Hauptes  und  Halses,  eine  Zeichnung  der  Figur, 
der  Hand,  und  darin  einen  Ausdruck  himmlischer  Liebe  ...  die  ihm 
nur  eigen  ist,  so  nicht  wiederkehren  kann."  — Vischer. 

162 


THE  MADONE   NOURRICE. 


163 


tyrs  pining  after  Paradise 
Gallery  his  best  Madonna 
(No.  288),  painted  as  an 
altar-piece  for  the  Certosa 
or  Carthusian  Monastery 
of  Pavia.  Its  priceless 
beauty  surely  refutes  the 
unworthy  sneer  of  Michael 
Angelo,  that  Perugino 
was  a  mere  "blockhead 
in  art"  (jgoffo  nelV  arte). 
In  this  picture  the  Virgin 
adores  the  Infant  Christ, 
whom  an  angel  presents 
to  her,  while  three  others 
sing  in  the  clouds  above. 

RAPHAEL. 

Raphael's  artistic  life 
falls  into  three  periods. 
In  all  three  of  these  he 
produced  Madonnas  of 
sovereign  loveliness,  and 
we  may  well  wonder 
at  — 


We  have  in  our  National 


Perugino. 


"  Her,  San  Sisto  names,  and  her  Foligno, 
Her,  that  visits  Florence  in  a  vision, 
Her,  that's  left  with  lilies  in  the  Louvre, 
Seen  by  us  and  all  the  world  in  circle."  1 

1.  Iii  the  Umbrian  or  Peruginesque  period  of  his  career, 
his  beautiful,  tender,  and  plastic  genius  was  still  deeply 
influenced  by  the  impress  of  his  father,  Giovanni  Santi, 
and  his  master  Perugino. 

2.  In  the  Florentine  period  (1504-1508)  he  came  under 
the   freer   influences   and   less   mannered  studies    of   the 

1  Browning,  One  Word  More. 


164 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


Renaissance.  The  first  Madonna  which  he  painted  in  this 
epoch  was  the  exquisite  Madonna  del  G-randuca,  also 
called  del  Viaggio,  because  the  Grand  Duke  Ferdinand  III. 
took  it  with  him  wherever  he  went.  It  was  painted  in 
1504,  and  still  shews  the  heavy  eyelid  —  what  Giovanni 
Santi  calls  the  "  santo  onesto  e  grave  ciylio"  which  we  see 
also  in  the  pictures  of  Francia  and  Perugino.1 

3.  In  his  Roman  period  (1508-1520),  Raphael  attained 
to  the  culmination  of  his  artistic  power,  but  lost  much  of 
his  religious  expressiveness. 


Casa  Conestabile  Madonna.    (Raphael.) 

Speaking  now  of  the  easel  pictures  of  the  Madonna  and 
Child  alone,  we  may  notice,  as  specimens  of  the  Umbrian 

1  Karoly,  The  Paintings  of  Florence,  p.  78. 


THE   MADOXE   XOURRICE.  165 

period,  the  Berlin  and  Conestabile  Madonnas  ;  of  the  Flor- 
entine period,  the  Panshanger,  the  Bridgewater,  and  the 
Madonna  del  Grranduca  ;  and  of  the  Roman  period,  the 
Madonna  del  Candelabri  and  della  Sedia. 

1.  In  the  Casa  Conestabile  Madonna  (here  reproduced), 
the  manner  of  Perugino  will  be  at  once  recognised.  The 
mountains  are,  perhaps,  copied  from  those  near  the  Lake 
of  Thrasymene.  The  picture  has  all  the  glory  of  clear 
sky,  pure  air,  and  holy  reverence.  The  Child  leans  over 
the  open  book  in  the  Virgin's  hand,  and  the  Virgin  bends 
modestly,  almost  timidly,  over  Him.  She  is  of  the  Umbrian 
type,  sweet,  chaste,  reverent,  rather  than  specially  beautiful. 

'2.  The  Bridgewater  and  Panshanger  Madonnas,  both 
exquisite,  mark  the  beginning  of  transition,  and  express 
more  of  simple  humanity,  less  of  the  divine  ideal.1 

3.  The  Madonna  della  Sedia  of  the  Roman  period 
proves  decisively  that  the  tones  of  technical  skill  have 
begun  to  predominate  over  deeper  feelings.  In  that  famous 
picture  we  have  a  lovely  contadina  with  her  child,  and  little 
more.  The  devotional  character  of  the  Umbrian  School 
has  entirely  disappeared.2  The  new  Roman  type  of  beauty 
which  he  had  now  adopted,  was  more  sensuous,  but  differed 
for  the  worse  from  the  older  and  purer  Umbrian  type  of 
his  youth.  Raphael  had  by  that  time  attained  to  a  power 
of  execution  almost  perfect,  as  well  as  to  a  supreme  sense 
of  beauty.  He  could  paint,  perhaps,  the  most  beautiful 
picture  in  the  world,  —  the  great  Madonna  di  Ban  Sisto, 
with  all  its  indescribable,  magical  impressiveness  of  heav- 
enly beauty.  But  in  general,  "  he  could  think  of  the 
Madonna  now  very  calmly,  with  no  desire  to  pour  out 
the  treasures  of  earth  at  her  feet,  or  cover  her  brows  with 

1  To  this  period  also  belong  La  Belle  Jardiniere  (Paris),  and  the  Ma- 
donna del  Baldacchitw  (Florence). 

2  See  Kugler,  II.  376  ;    Miintz,  Raphael,  p.  392  ;    Grayer,  Vierges  de 
Raphael.    I  am  very  far  indeed  from  regarding  it  as  Hawthorne  did,  as 
"the  most  beautiful  picture  in  the  world."     To  the  third  period  belong 
the  Madonna  del  Passeggio  (Vienna)  ;   del  Divino  Amore  (Naples)  ;  di 
Foligno  (Rome)  ;  del  Pesce  (Madrid). 


166  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

the  golden  shafts  of  heaven.  He  could  think  of  her  as  an 
available  subject  for  the  display  of  transparent  shadows, 
skilful  tints,  and  scientific  foreshortenings  —  as  a  fair 
woman,  forming,  if  well  painted,  a  pleasant  piece  of  furni- 
ture for  the  corner  of  a  boudoir,  and  best  imagined  by 
combination  of  the  beauties  of  the  prettiest  contadinas."1 

To  Raphael's  third  Roman  period  belongs  the  Garvagh 
Madonna.  It  is  sometimes  called  the  Aldobrandini  Ma- 
donna, from  the  family  to  which  it  belonged,  and  the 
Madonna  del  Griglio  (of  the  pink),  from  the  flower  which 
the  little  Baptist,  with  his  cross  of  reeds,  has  just  given  to 
the  Infant  Christ.  The  picture  has  all  Raphael's  sweet- 
ness, but  it  is  impossible  not  to  see  that  simple  grace  and 
beauty  and  technical  skill  are  more  thought  of  than 
devotion.  There  is  nothing  except  the  nimbi  round  the 
heads  to  distinguish  it  from  any  human  scene. 

BERNARDINO  LUINI  was  a  truly  exquisite  painter,  some 
of  whose  best  works  —  for  instance,  the  Christ  Disput- 
ing with  the  Doctors  in  our  National  Gallery,  and  the 
Vanity  and  Modesty  in  the  Sciarra  Colonna  Palace  at 
Rome  —  have  been  attributed  to  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  by 
whom,  whether  he  was  ever  Leonardo's  pupil  or  not, 
he  was  deeply  influenced.  If  he  did  not  equal  Leonardo 
in  consummate  genius,  he  surpassed  him  not  only  in  the 
multitude  of  his  pictures,  but  also  in  the  winning  loveli- 
ness, in  the  pure  and  holy  spirit  of  peace.,  which  breathe 
through  them  all. 

1  Kugler  admits  that  in  most  of  Raphael's  later  Madonnas  "  we  no 
longer  perceive  the  tender  enthusiasm,  the  earnestness,  and  fervour  of 
youth.  They  are  not  glorified,  holy  forms,  which  compel  us  to  adore, 
but  the  most  interesting  moments  of  domestic  life,  when  the  sports  of 
graceful  children  attract  the  delighted  observations  of  parents."  See, 
on  the  baneful  influence  of  Raphael  on  late  Renaissance  art,  Ruskin, 
Modern  Painters,  III.  65.  Yet  it  must  be  added  that  the  Sistine  Ma- 
donna transcends  criticism.  It  exercises  a  spell  on  all  who  see  it.  The 
little  angel  children,  so  full  of  divine  loveliness  and  childish  wonder,  seem 
to  have  been  specially  introduced  by  the  painter  to  make  the  pathos  of 
the  picture  less  painfully  overpowering. 


THE  MADONE   NOURRICE. 


167 


One  of  his  most  charming  works  is  the  Madonna  of  the 
Rose-trellis  in  the  Brera  Gallery  at  Milan.  The  Virgin 
is  a  mortal  woman  of  lowly  rank  and  poor  dress,  whose 
long  tresses  fall  over  her  shoulders  beneath  her  snood. 


Madonna  Nourrice.     (Luini.) 

The  influence  of  Leonardo  is  visible  in  the  type  chosen, 
and  also  in  the  expression,  though  Luini  almost  entirely 
emancipates  himself  from  the  maddening  mystery  of  that 
Sphinx-like  smile  which  Leonardo  introduced  into  his  La 
Grioconda.  Luini  was  one  of  those  men  who,  being  humble, 
could  not  be  but  susceptible  to  the  impression  of  Leonardo's 
myriad-minded  genius ;  but  if  he  learnt  from  him  he  im- 


168  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

proved  upon  him,  and  gave  to  the  faces  of  his  saints  a 
penitence,  a  fervour,  a  rapture,  which  was  beyond  the  zeal 
of  Leonardo's  pencil,  and  perhaps  not  in  accordance  with 
the  bent  of  his  mind.  Even  when  we  can  point  most 
clearly  to  his  master's  spell  over  him,  we  can  see  that  he 
knows  how  to  simplify,  and  soften,  and  diffuse  over  his 
canvas  a  hallowing  atmosphere,  proving  himself  to  be  a 
painter  full  of  power,  feeling,  and  independence,  who  gave 
back  a  fresh  influence  for  every  influence  he  received. 

The  Virgin  is  seated  in  front  of  a  trellis  which  occurs  in 
not  a  few  mediaeval  Madonnas,  as  in  Botticelli's  Virgin  and 
Child  (N.  G.,  No.  220),  and  in  that  by  Girolamo  Dei 
Libri  (No.  748),  and  in  Francia's  lovely  Madonna  of  the 
Rose-trellis  at  Munich,  and  in  Martin  Schongauer's  at 
Colmar.  This  has  been  thought  to  imply  a  reference  to 
the  verse  "  A  Garden  enclosed  is  my  sister,  my  spouse," l 
as  well  as  to  the  more  general  conceptions  that  Christ  is 
the  Rose  of  Sharon,  and  that  all  things  beautiful  bloom 
in  the  Garden  of  His  peace.  The  rose  is  frequently  in- 
troduced into  these  Madonna  pictures  because  the  Virgin 
was  the  Rosa  Coeli,  as  Dante  sings — 

"  Quivi  e  la  rosa  in  che  '1  Verbo  divino 
Carne  si  fece :  e  quivi  sono  i'  gigli 
Al  cui  odor  s'apprese  '1  buon  cammino."  2 

It  mattered  not  whether  the  roses  were  red  or  white,  for 
the  former  would  symbolize  the  Virgin's  ardent  love,  and 
the  other  her  stainless  chastity.  Both  were  connected 
with  the  legend  of  her  sorrows  and  her  glory.  Sir  John 
Mandeville  tells  us  how  the  Holy  Maiden  of  Bethlehem 
"  blamed  with  wrong  and  sclaundered  with  fornication,  was 
demed  to  the  Dethe,  and  as  the  Fyre  beganne  to  brenne 
about  hire,  sche  made  hire  Preyers  to  oure  Lord,  that  as  sche 
was  not  gylty  of  that  Synne,  that  he  wold  helpe  hire,  and 
make  it  to  be  known  to  alle  men  of  His  mercyfulle  grace. 
And  when  sche  hadde  thus  seyd,  down  was  the  Fyre 
1  Song  of  Solomon,  iv.  12.  -  Parad.,  xxiii.  73-75. 


THE   MADOXE   XOURRICE.  169 

quenched  and  oute,  and  the  Brenden  that  weren  brennynge 
became  Red  Roseres,  and  the  Brenden  that  weren  not 
kyndled  becomen  white  Roseres  f ulle  of  Roses.  And  these 
weren  the  first  Roseres  of  Roses  both  white  and  red,  that 
ever  any  man  saughe.  And  thus  was  the  May  den  saved 
by  the  grace  of  God."  l 

Botticelli's  special  fondness  for  roses  may  also  have  had 
its  influence  over  Luini.  He  paints  them  as  no  other  painter 
can  do,  "  flowering  on  the  garden  bushes  behind  his  Virgins, 
or  wreathed  in  garlands  by  attendant  cherubs,  falling  in 
showers  on  the  shore  where  Venus  sets  her  foot,  crowning 
the  brows  and  decking  the  white  robes  of  Spring,  massed 
in  great  handfuls  of  red  and  white  by  sportive  Loves,  or 
wafted  to  and  fro  by  angel-choirs  as  they  dance  on  the 
clouds  of  heaven."  2  His  Madonna  in  the  Uffizi  is  shaped 
like  the  corolla  of  an  opening  rose. 

The  Child  Christ  in  Luini's  picture  is  one  of  those  noble 
types  which  no  painter  has  surpassed.  Divine  in  His 
enchanting  Humanity,  He  leans  on  one  side,  and  grasps 
with  His  right  hand  the  stem  of  a  columbine  which  grows 
in  a  vase  by  His  side.  Perhaps  the  triple  leaves  of  the 
flower  may  have  a  symbolic  meaning.  The  face  has  all 
the  indescribable  charm  not  only  of  its  own  serene  beauty, 
but  because  "  God  Himself  seems  to  shine  through  its  ten- 
der lineaments."  Mongeri  rightly  says  of  Luini,  "  La  sua 
pittura  e  parola  figurata." 

With  this  Madonna  of  Luini  may  be  compared  his  ex- 
quisite Madonna  of  the  Lily  in  the  Albani  Palace  at  Rome, 
which  used  to  be  attributed  to  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 

Another  Rose-garden  Madonna  is  in  the  Munich  Gallery. 
It  is  by  Francia,  and  is  "  a  gem  of  colour  and  sentiment." 
The  Virgin  is  in  a  grassy  garden  separated  from  the  pure 
and  quiet  landscape  by  a  low  hedge  of  roses.  The  naked 
Child  lies  on  her  mantle,  which  is  outspread  on  the  grassy 

1  Sir  John  Mandeville,  Voyages  and  Travailes,  p.  84,  quoted  by  Lord 
Lindsay. 

2  Julia  Cartwright,  Portfolio,  XIII.  58. 


170  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

sward,  and  looks  up  at  her  and  blesses  her  with  His  little 
hand.  The  Virgin,  with  her  palms  folded  across  her  breast, 
gazes  down  at  Him  a  little  sadly  and  seems  about  to  sink 
upon  her  knees.1 

There  is  yet  another  picture  of  this  kind  which  is  in  the 
Cologne  Museum,  —  the  Madonna  aus  Rosenlaube,  —  which 
is  the  gem  of  the  school  of  "  Master  Steffan."  "The  un- 
dressed Child  sits  with  royal  dignity  in  the  Virgin's  lap, 
and  she  gazes  down  at  Him  in  absorbed  contemplation, 
as  though  it  were  solely  in  His  honour  that  she  had 
decked  herself  in  gold  and  jewels."  On  the  flowery  grass 
around  her  are  seated  four  charming  young  angels  with 
harp  and  regal  and  mandolins.  Behind  her,  others  lean 
over  masses  of  flowers  and  fruit ;  one  of  these  is  plucking 
a  rose  from  the  trellis  ;  another  offers  a  fruit  to  Christ.  At 
the  corner  two  cherubs  are  drawing  back  the  curtain,  and 
above  the  Virgin's  head,  in  a  medallion  filled  with  little 
cherubs,  God  the  Father  gives  His  blessing,  and  the  Dove 
descends. 2 

Most  of  Albrecht  Diirer's  Madonnas  belong  to  this 
type.  "  In  all  his  representations  of  the  Mother  of  God," 
says  Professor  Thausing,  "  he  has  placed  her  directly  and 
uniquely  in  connexion  with  the  Infant  Jesus,  and  as  deriv- 
ing all  her  importance  from  Him.  She  is  nearly  always 
occupied  in  some  way  or  other  with  Him.  When  sur- 

1  It  is  reproduced  in  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  418. 

2  Given  in  Woltmann,  II.  95.     "  An  early  seat  of  activity  in  painting 
was  also  Nuremberg;  but  that  art  reaches  during  the  Middle  Ages  its 
highest  level  in  the  Rhineland,  and  notably  and  admittedly  in  pious  and 
opulent  Cologne.     Here  two  masters  especially  stand  forth  in  the  close 
of  the  fourteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  centuries :  Meister 
Wilhelm,  and,  after  him,  Meister  Stephan  Lochner,  both  artists  of  a 
high  order.     Great  suavity  and  dignity  marked  their  art  —  an  art  which 
reflected  the  mystic  fervour  that  reigned  in  those  days  at  Cologne.     It 
was  an  art  from  which  character  and  individualization  were  almost 
wholly  absent,  and  of  which  the  unreal  aspect  was  emphasized  by  the 
habitual  omission  of  any  indications  of  sky  or  landscape,  and  by  the 
relief  of  the  figures  against  a  background  of  gold,  often  stamped  with 
a  richly  decorative  pattern."  —  Sir  Frederic  Leighton. 


THE   MADONE   XOURRICE.  171 

rounded  by  angels  or  saints,  her  attention  is  exclusively 
bestowed  upon  the  Child.  This  subordination  of  the  Virgin 
is  founded  no  less  on  a  particular  theological  tendency 
than  on  the  abstract  character  of  the  German  mind. 
Diirer's  Virgin  has  none  of  the  independence,  none  of  the 
grace  and  material  charm,  found  in  the  Virgins  of  the 
Italian  masters.  Even  the  aureole  is  after  a  time  laid 
aside.  She  is  a  simple  Niiremburg  mother,  such  as  might 
be  met  with  every  day  in  that  town.  She  has  the  look  of 
a  worthy  German  matron,  even  down  to  the  reticule  and 
bunch  of  keys.  Sometimes  she  sits  spinning  and  reclining 
in  the  workshop  of  Joseph  the  carpenter ;  sometimes  read- 
ing in  the  midst  of  a  landscape  surrounded  by  the  gentle 
animal  life  of  the  North,  or  by  busy  little  angels.  And 
these  little  angels  are,  like  the  Child  Jesus,  genuine,  play- 
ful children,  without  any  premature  wisdom  or  precocious 
sentimentality.  Diirer's  Virgin  knows  but  one  sentiment, 
—  that  of  maternal  love,  She  suckles  her  son  with  a  calm 
feeling  of  happiness,  she  gazes  upon  Him  with  admiration 
as  He  lies  upon  her  lap,  she  caresses  Him  and  presses  Him 
to  her  bosom  without  a  thought  whether  it  is  becoming  to 
her  or  whether  she  is  being  admired.  Therefore  she  is  not, 
like  the  Virgin  of  the  Italian  masters,  endowed  by  Diirer 
with  the  eternal  youth  of  the  old  divinities.  As  she 
draws  near  the  end  of  life,  she  becomes  old  and  decrepit. 
If  to  some  this  want  of  beauty  and  of  grace  should  appear 
a  subject  of  regret,  let  them  not  for  that  reason  account  it 
a  reproach  to  Diirer  and  to  German  art." l 

In  Raphael's  Roman  period  began  the  decline  of  deep 
religious  sincerity.  In  CORREGGIO  we  mark  the  fatal 
downward  course  which  substituted  grace  and  sidelong 
prettinesses,  and  sensuous  charm,  and  unidealized  humanity 
for  the  holy  unrealities  of  a  devotional  ideal.  That  his 
Virgin  of  the  Basket,  here  reproduced,  is  a  lovely  picture 
no  one  can  dispute  ;  but  there  is  not  one  gleam  of  religious 
feeling  in  it,  nor  anything  sacred  except  the  name.  In 

1  Albrecht  Diirer,  by  Moritz  Thausing  (Eng.  trans.),  II.  74. 


172  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

such  a  picture  Art  follows  her  own  devices  with  scarcely 
more  than  the  pretence  of  being  the  handmaid  of  religion. 
This  exquisite  little  Vierge  au  Panier  (Madonna  della 
Cesta),  painted  in  1520,  has  been  called  "  an  epitome  of 
Correggio's  art."  The  qualities  of  his  greatness  are  mainly 
technical.  He  excels  in  luminosity,  in  harmonious  colour- 
ing, in  foreshortening,  in  giving  the  effect  of  aerial  per- 
spective, in  overflowing  vitality,  in  the  rendering  of  flesh 
tints,  and  of  all  physical  beauty.  But  he  degraded  the 
aims  of  Art  by  some  of  his  mythological  classicalism, 
and  we  are  authoritatively  told  that  the  "  influence  he  exer- 
cised on  later  Art  was  more  baneful  than  otherwise." 1 

This  picture  is  an  exquisite  domestic  scene.  At  the 
Virgin's  right  is  an  osier  work-basket  from  which  it  derives 
its  name.  She  is  dressing  the  lovely,  lively,  wilful,  golden- 
haired  child.  She  has  succeeded  in  getting  His  right  arm 
into  one  sleeve,  but  just  as  she  has  done  so,  His  attention 
is  vehemently  attracted  by  something  towards  which  He  is 
looking  and  stretching  out  His  hand.  She  holds  the  little 
left  hand  in  here,  and  looks  down  at  the  Child  with  a  proud 
smile  of  love,  while  she  thinks  how  hard  it  will  be  to  finish 
her  task  of  checking  His  impulsive  movements.  In  the 
background  Joseph  is  working  with  a  plane,  but  otherwise 
there  is  nothing  whatever  to  remind  us  that  this  is  a  sacred 
subject  and  the  shadowing  forth  of  an  ineffable  mystery. 2 
We  have,  indeed,  perfect  beauty,  and  that,  as  Mr.  Brown- 
ing tells  us  in  the  person  of  his  Fra  Lippi,  is  — 

"  about  the  best  thing  God  invents." 

1  National  Gallery,  23.     A  very  pleasing  Madonna  by  Correggio  is  the 
Madonna  della  Scala,  from  the  ladder  introduced  on  one  side.     "  Other 
men  have  nobler  or  more  numerous  gifts,  but  as  a  painter  of  the  art  of 
laying  on  colour  so  as  to  be  lovely,  Correggio  stands  alone."  —  Ruskin. 

2  Probably  the  Virgin  was  his  wife,  the  Child  his  son  Pomponio. 
"When  a  nation's  culture  has  reached   its  culminating  point,"  says 
Morelli,  "we  see  everywhere,  in  daily  life  as  well  as  in  literature  and 
art,  that  grace  comes  to  be  valued  more  than  character.     So  it  was  in 
Italy  during  the  closing  decades  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  the  opening 
ones  of  the  sixteenth."  —  Italian  Masters,  p.  124. 


MADONNA  BELLA  CESTA. 


From  the  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


Correggio. 


THE   MADONE   NOURRICE.  173 

But  there  is  no  hushed  reverence,  no  deep  insight.  This 
is  not  a  picture  which  the  painter  could  have  thought  of 
painting,  as  Angelico  sometimes  painted  his,  upon  his 
knees.  Andrea  del  Sarto,  as  we  have  seen,  ventures  to  re- 
present the  Saviour  as  a  simple  Infant  in  all  the  winning 
feebleness  of  infancy,  and  with  no  touch  of  the  Divine  to 
differentiate  Him  from  other  children ;  but  Correggio  went 
even  farther  than  this,  and  in  his  Holy  Families  "  does  not 
shrink  from  investing  the  Holy  Child  with  impetuous 
vivacity,  —  nay,  more,  with  impish  roguishness." 


The  next  Madonna  which  I  will  notice  is  by  GUERCINO. 
It  is  at  Milan,  and  is  known  as  the  Madonna  delV  Uccello, 
from  the  bird  on  the  Virgin's  finger. 

Giovanni  Francesco  Barbieri  —  nicknamed  Guercino, 
from  his  squint  —  was  born  at  Cento  near  Bologna,  in 
1591,  and  was  the  son  of  a  wood-carrier.  After  studying 
at  Bologna  and  Venice,  he  went  to  Rome  and  fell  under  the 
unfortunate  influence  of  the  coarse  and  violent  Caravaggio. 
Michael  Angelo  Amerighi,  called  Caravaggio  from  his 
birthplace,  was  born  in  1569,  and  was  the  founder  of  the 
Naturalists,  so  called  from  their  revolt  against  the  insipid 
and  artificial  mannerism  of  the  imitators  of  Correggio.  The 
school  was  ruined  by  the  fatal  error  of  supposing  that 
there  is  more  naturalness  in  what  is  vulgar,  ugly,  repel- 
lent, and  commonplace  than  in  the  loftier  ideals  of  the 
imagination,  and  in  things  lovely,  true,  pure,  and  of  good 
report. 

Under  this  influence  Guercino  became  the  chief  leader 
of  the  .  school  known  as  the  Tenebrosi,  from  the  dark 
tone  of  colouring  which  they  affected.  In  1642,  after 
the  death  of  Guido  Reni,  he  went  to  Bologna,  and 
joining  the  Eclectic  School  of  Bolognese  painters,  became 
an  imitator  of  Guido,  but  with  no  success. 

The  introduction  of  birds  into  pictures  of  the  Madonna 
is  very  common,  and  we  have  instances  of  it  in  the  gold- 


174  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

finch  of  Cima's  picture  in  the  National  Gallery  (No.  634)  ; 
in  the  swallow  of  Carlo  Crivelli's  Madonna  della  Rondine 
(No.  724)  ;  the  goldfinches  on  the  steps  of  the  throne  in 
Benozzo  Gozzoli's  Virgin  and  Child  Enthroned  (283)  ; J 
the  magpie  on  the  roof  in  Piero  dei  Franceschi's  Nativity 
(No.  905),  and  the  goldfinch  in  the  Child's  hand  in  one  of 


Madonna  Nourrice.    (Bissolo.) 

Raphael's  earliest  Madonnas  at  Berlin.  It  is  seen  also  in 
the  charming  picture  of  Bissolo  at  Venice  (often  attributed 
to  Bellini),  of  which  an  engraving  is  here  given.  The 

1  Goldfinches  are  very  common  in  pictures  by  Botticelli  and  by  earlier 
painters.  The  red  feathers  on  the  bird's  wings  were  regarded  as  sym- 
bolical of  the  wounded  side  of  Christ. 


THE  MADONE   NOURRICE.  175 

finest  instance  is  of  course  to  be  seen  in  Raphael's 
Madonna  del  Cardellino,  the  Mater  pulcrce  dilectionis, 
where  the  Infant  Christ,  tenderly  stroking  the  head  of  the 
little  bird  in  the  hands  of  the  Baptist,  seems  already  to 
be  uttering  that  supreme  revelation  of  God's  love,  "Are 
not  five  sparrows  sold  for  two  farthings,  and  not  one  of 
them  falleth  to  the  ground  without  your  Father  ?  " 

How  widely  different  is  the  motif  of  the  picture  of 
Guercino  !  Here  a  peasant  mother,  whose  beauty  is  of  the 
most  mundane  and  ordinary  type,  holds  the  bird  on  her 
finger.  Its  legs  are  tied  by  a  string  which  is  in  the  hand 
of  the  Child,  and  mother  and  Child  do  not  seem  to  have 
one  thought  in  their  souls  beyond  the  triviality  of  the 
passing  amusement.  This  Virgin  is  neither  fair  enough 
to  worship,  nor  divine  enough  to  love. 


Yet  Guercino  could  hardly  have  sunk  to  the  depths  of 
irreverence  and  inanity  revealed  in  BAROCCI'S  Madonna 
of  the  Cat  in  our  National  Gallery  (No.  29). 1  Barocci, 
born  at  Urbino  in  1528,  was  professedly  a  religious  painter, 
an  imitator  of  Raphael  and  Correggio.2  Here,  too,  the 
bird  is  a  goldfinch,  which  the  little  St.  John  —  an  extremely 
unattractive  child  —  is  holding  up  in  his  right  hand,  while 
he  leans  against  the  Virgin's  knee.  The  little  bird  is 
struggling  wildly  to  get  free ;  and  no  wonder,  for,  at  St. 
John's  feet  is  a  cat  with  outstretched  neck  and  uplifted 
paw,  which  St.  John  is  teazing  by  holding  the  bird  above 
its  reach !  A  vulgar  Virgin  with  her  hand  outstretched  is 
calling  the  attention  of  the  Holy  Child  to  this  intellectual 
treat,  and  a  St.  Joseph  leans  over  the  group  highly  amused 
and  equally  absorbed  with  them  in  the  wretched  incident. 3 

1  Guilio  Romano's  Madonna  della  Catina,  in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  is 
on  a  par  with  Barocci's  in  the  absence  of  all  religious  feeling. 

2  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  says  that  he  falls  under  the  old  criticism,  "that 
his  figures  looked  as  if  they  fed  upon  roses." 

3  Bellori  calls  the  picture  a  scherzo,  but  no  painter  has  the  right  to 
play  with  such  a  subject. 


176  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

Surely,  religious  feeling  could  hardly  sink  into  lower  de- 
gradation !  The  fault  of  Barocci's  picture  was  perhaps  less 
due  to  his  own  deficiencies  than  to  those  of  his  age.  The 
artist  seems  to  have  been  an  amiable  and  unfortunate  man. 
At  Rome  he  was  nearly  killed,  and  his  health  ruined  for 
life,  by  the  poison  administered  to  him  by  jealous  rivals. 


Another  Holy  Family  in  our  National  Gallery  will  illus- 
trate no  less  forcibly  the  change  of  religious  feeling.  It  is 
that  of  RUBENS.  How  much  religious  sentiment  it  is 
likely  to  express,  we  see  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  group  of 
Rubens'  own  family.  In  the  older  painters  this  "  playing 
at  being  a  Holy  Family  "  would  have  been  impossible.  It 
is  true  that  portraiture  had  been  gradually  introduced  into 
these  sacred  subjects,  —  at  first  only  those  of  donors  and 
subordinate  actors  in  the  scene,  —  but  whenever  a  Virgin 
was  painted  from  a  model,  the  model  had  been  at  least 
idealized.  Leonardo  da  Vinci  had  placed  the  Child  Jesus 
on  the  knees  of  a  Virgin  painted  from  Cecilia  Gallerani, 
the  mistress  of  Ludovico  Moro ;  but  does  not  this  fact 
alone  suffice  to  prove  that  his  artistic  inspiration  was  ren- 
dered turbid  by  very  earthly  elements  ? 

There  are  numberless  Madonnas  of  Murillo  and  the 
Spanish  artists.  Perhaps  the  best  is  that  by  Cano  (b.  1601), 
who  is  called  "the  Michael  Angelo  of  Spain."  It  is  at 
Seville,  and  is  known  as  Our  Lady  of  Bethlehem.  "  In 
serene  celestial  beauty  it  is  excelled  by  no  image  of  the 
Blessed  Mary  ever  devised  in  Spain." J 


The  last  Madonna  of  this  type  which  I  shall  here  notice 
is  again  by  CARLO  DOLCI.  In  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  religious  feeling  no  longer  reigned  in  Italy  in  its  all 
pure  and  intense  simplicity.  Religion,  like  art,  had  be- 
come manneristic  and  artificial,  exaggerated  and  senti- 
1  Sir  W.  Stirling  Maxwell,  Annals  of  the  Spanish  Artists,  II.  803. 


THE   MADONE   NOURRICE.  177 

mental.  Carlo  Dolci  was  avowedly  a  religious  painter, 
but  the  wholly  unconscious  unreality  in  a  self-conscious 
piety  is  observable  in  all  his  pictures.  If  we  compare  this 
Madonna  with  those  of  virile  painters  like  Giovanni  Bellini 
or  Andrea  Mantegna,  we  see  how  little  the  depth  of  re- 
ligious feeling  can  be  replaced  by  posturing  affectations, 
exaggerated  ecstasies,  and  simpering  prettiness.1 

Thus,  incontestably,  does  Art  reflect  all  the  moods  of  re- 
ligious life  from  its  dawn  in  glad  and  unquestioning  enthu- 
siasm, to  its  decadence  in  affectation,  unreality,  formalism, 
and  routine. 

1  Carlo  Dolci  "  aurait  pu  faire  de  belles  choses,  si  une  sorte  de  quiet- 
isme  ne  1'eut  conduit  a  exprimer  1'aneantissement  de  1'ame  dans  les 
masques  blemes,  qui  ont  la  transparence  de  la  cire  et  tous  les  symptomes 
de  la  mort  mystique."  —  C.  Blanc. 

N 


IV. 

THE  VIRGIN  AND  CHILD  WITH  THE  INFANT  BAPTIST. 

"  While  young  John  runs  to  greet 

The  greater  Infant's  feet, 
The  Mother,  standing  by  with  trembling  passion 

Of  devout  admiration, 
Beholds  th'  engaging  mystic  play  and  solemn  adoration. 


But  at  her  side 

An  Angel  doth  abide 

With  such  a  perfect  joy 

As  no  dim  doubts  alloy  ; 

An  intuition, 

A  glory,  an  amenity, 

Passing  the  dark  condition 

Of  poor  humanity, 

As  if  he  surely  knew 

All  the  blest  wonders  should  ensue." 

—  CHARLES  LAMB. 

AMONG  the  infinite  varieties  of  treatment  of  which  the 
central  motif  of  the  Virgin  with  the  Child  Jesus  was  sus- 
ceptible, many  of  the  loveliest  are  furnished  by  the  pict- 
ures in  which  only  the  infant  St.  John  is  also  introduced, 
as  in  many  of  the  great  pictures  of  Raphael,  so  intimately 
known  to  all.  Such  are  the  Madonna  del  Passeggio,  the 
Belle  Jardiniere,  La  Perla,  and  above  all,  the  exquisite 
Del  Cardellino. 

Turning  to  other  painters,  we  must  feel  when  we  look 
at  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  Madonna  of  the  Rocks,  in  our 
National  Gallery,  that  we  have  fully  reached  the  age  in 
which  the  Renaissance  culminated  and  in  which  more  is 

178 


VIRGIN  AND  CHILD  WITH  THE  INFANT  BAPTIST.    179 


thought  of  producing  a  scientific  picture  than  of  deepening 
Christian  devotion. 

The  Virgin  is  kneeling  in  a  flowery  place  between  dark 
rocks  of  basalt.1  The  tradition  that  a  cavern  was  the 
scene  of  the  Nativity  is  perhaps  derived  from  Isa.  xxxiii. 
16,2  but  is  found  as 
early  as  the  days  of 
Justin  Martyr.3  She 
is  laying  her  right 
hand  on  the  shoulder 
of  the  little  golden- 
haired  St.  John,  who 
adores  the  Infant 
Christ.  Her  left  hand 
is  outspread  above  the 
head  of  her  Son.  The 
Child  Christ  is  seated 
on  the  ground  sup- 
ported by  an  angel 
who  points  to  the  St. 
John.  He  blesses  his 
little  companion  with 
two  uplifted  fingers. 
Through  a  chasm  in 
the  distant  rocks  — 
which  are  quite  im- 
possible in  their  char- 
acter —  flows  a  broad  river.  The  Virgin  wears  that 
inexplicable,  enchanting,  mysterious  smile  by  which  Leo- 
nardo first  beguiled  Italian  Art.  There  is  feeling  and 
mystery  in  this  great  picture,  on  which  the  sonnet  of 

1  Mr.  Gilbert  conjectures  that  both  the  shimmering  light  and  the  strange 
rocks  may  be  a  shuddering  reminiscence  of  some  stalactite  cavern  which 
Leonardo  had  visited  ;  perhaps  that  of  Oliero,  near  Bassano. 

2  Where  the  LXX.  has  OVTOS  oiKriaei  fv  cnrr/Xaty  ityTjXy  irtrpas  ur%u/5as. 

3  Just.    Mart.    Dial.  C.   Tryph.  C.  78,  fv  ffiri]\a.i(p  TIVI  ffvveyybs  TTJS  KU/JLTJS. 
Comp.  Orig.  c.  Cels.  I.  51. 


Leonardo  da  Vinci. 


180  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Dante  Rossetti  has  perhaps  furnished  the  most  sympathetic 
comment :  — 

"Mother,  is  this  the  darkness  of  the  end, 

The  shadow  of  Death?  and  is  that  outer  sea 
Infinite  imminent  Eternity? 

******* 

Mother  of  Grace,  the  pass  is  difficult, 

Keen  as  these  rocks,  and  the  bewildered  souls 
Throng  in,  like  echoes  blindly  shuddering  through." 

In  the  Louvre  is  Leonardo's  well-known  Madonna  with 
St.  Anne.  They  are  seated  at  the  rocky  edge  of  a  little 
pool,  in  a  landscape  with  mountains  in  the  distance,  and  a 
fine  tree  on  the  right.  Both  St.  Anne  and  the  Virgin,  who 
is  upon  her  knees,  are  looking  down  at  the  Holy  Child, 
who  has  one  leg  over  the  back  of  a  lamb,  which  He  is  hold- 
ing by  the  ears.  The  lamb  and  the  Child's  attitude  at 
once  recall  Luini's  Madonna  deW  Agnello  and  his  Infant 
Christ  with  the  Lamb.  It  is  not  easy  to  be  sure  which  of 
the  two  painters  borrowed  the  idea  from  the  other.  In 
both  it  is  rendered  with  consummate  beauty. 1  "  Leonardo," 
says  Morelli,  "  was  perhaps  the  most  richly  gifted  man 
that  Mother  Nature  ever  made.  He  was  the  first  who 
tried  to  express  the  smile  of  inward  happiness,  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  soul." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Leonardo,  or  Michael  Angelo,  or 
Raphael  in  his  Roman  period,  produced  the  deepest  effect 
on  Art,  but  it  is  certain  that  the  influence  of  all  three,  as 
a  combined  whole,  did  much  to  alter  the  aims  of  Christian 
painting  and  to  divert  into  other  channels  its  single-hearted 
devoutness. 

The  one  painter  who  chiefly  influenced  Michael  Angelo 
was  probably  LUCA  SIGNORELLI.  There  is  a  Virgin  and 
Child  by  him  in  the  Ufifizi  Gallery  at  Florence,  in  which 
he  has  introduced  four  naked  figures  into  the  background 
out  of  mere  delight  in  painting  the  nude,  and  Angelo,  as 
1  The  picture  is  reproduced  in  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  559. 


VIRGIN  AND  CHILD  WITH  THE  INFANT  BAPTIST.    181 

we  shall  see,  imitated  him  in  this  first  deviation  from 
religious  propriety. 

In  our  Gallery  is  a  Madonna  by  Michael  Angelo,  which, 
like  so  many  of  his  works,  is  unfinished.  It  is  in  tempera, 
and  Michael  Angelo  professed  to  despise  oil  painting  as 
"only  fit  for  women  and  idle  people,  like  Fra  Bastiani 
(Sebastian  del  Piombo)."  l  The  Madonna  was  too  tender 
a  subject  for  his  sombre  and  statuesque  genius.  Raphael, 
in  his  short  life,  painted  at  least  forty  Madonnas,  Michael 
Angelo  only  seven,  and  only  one  in  his  maturity.  Had 
the  Madonna  of  our  Gallery  been  finished,  it  would  cer- 
tainly have  been  a  powerful  painting.  It  was  perhaps  left 
unfinished,  when  in  1490  the  painter  went  from  Florence  to 
Rome.  Two  angels,  superb,  un winged  youths,  stand  in  sym- 
metrical positions  on  either  side.  Their  arms  are  entwined 
round  each  other's  necks.  They  are  partly  undraped,  and 
are  studying  the  words  of  Scripture,  which  saddens  them 
with  prophecies.  The  figures  shew  the  influence  of  Dona- 
tello  and  Luca  della  Robbia.  The  Virgin,  who  sits  sad  and 
pensive  in  the  midst,  has  also  an  open  book  on  her  knees, 
but  her  Infant  Son  —  to  whom  the  little  St.  John  calls 
the  spectator's  notice  —  is  preventing  her  from  reading  it. 
Dante  Rossetti  interprets  the  picture  differently :  — 

"  Turn  not  the  Prophet's  page,  O  Son  !     He  knew 
All  that  Thou  hast  to  suffer,  and  hath  writ. 
Not  yet  Thine  hour  of  knowledge." 

Both  the  children  are  powerful  but  unpleasing,  nor  is  there 
anything  divine  about  either  them  or  the  Virgin.  It  is 
remarkable  that  Michael  Angelo  was  one  of  the  first,  if 
not  the  first,  to  break  the  old  tradition  of  inseparable  con- 
junction between  the  Mother  and  the  Child.  With  him, 
in  this  and  other  pictures,  the  Child  is  no  longer  on  the 
Virgin's  knees,  or  encircled  by  her  arms,  and  He  is  no 
longer  a  helpless  infant,  but  a  strong  boy.2 

1  "  Arte  da  donna,  e  de  persone  agiate  ed  infingarde." 

2  Sprenger,  in  Dohme,  II.  28.    There  is  a  picture  not  unlike  this  at 
Nantes,  by  Ghirlandajo. 


182  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Another  of  Angelo's  Madonnas,  which  is  neither  religious 
nor  domestic,  is  in  the  Uffizi  at  Florence.  The  powerful 
figure  of  the  Virgin  is  kneeling,  and  she  seems  to  be  handing 
Jesus  over  her  right  shoulder  into  the  arms  of  the  aged 
St.  Joseph.  The  little  St.  John  is  walking  in  a  road  below 
the  scene,  and  looks  joyously  back  at  the  Holy  Child. 
Seated  on  the  wall  behind  on  either  side  are  five  naked 


Virgin  and  Child.     (Michael  Angelo.) 


youths — beautiful  and  powerful  figures,  but  wholly  un- 
connected with  the  picture,  and  worse  than  meaningless. 
They  are  a  fatal  indication  that  the  painter  wished  chiefly, 
as  Vasari  says,  "  mostrare  maggiormente  1'  arte  sua  essere 


VIRGIN  AND  CHILD  WITH  THE  INFANT  BAPTIST.     183 

grandissima,"  to  show  how  completely  he  had  mastered 
the  laws  of  perspective  (to  which  so  much  attention  had 
been  directed  by  Paolo  Uccello),  and  also  his  power  to  re- 
present the  nude. 

We  must  here  mention  Raphael's  Madonna  del  Cardel- 
Zmo,  to  my  mind  the  most  enchanting  of  all  his  works.  It 
is  the  first  of  his  pictures  which  marks  the  transition  from 
his  Umbrian  to  his  Florentine  manner  (about  1507).  It 
shows  traces  of  what  Raphael  had  learnt  from  Leonardo 
and  Fra  Bartolommeo.  The  landscape  is  still  predomi- 
nantly Umbrian,  but  shews  an  idealized  Florence  in  the  dis- 
tance. The  goldfinch  was  supposed  to  be  emblematic  of 
the  Passion,  from  the  red  streaks  upon  its  wings.  The 
Holy  Child  is  standing  between  His  mother's  knees,  lis- 
tening to  the  book  in  which  she  has  been  reading.  The 
little  Baptist  is  a  splendid  boy  with  crisp  curly  hair ;  he  is 
girded  with  the  leather  girdle  round  his  mantle  of  camel's 
skin.  His  little  wooden  hermit's  water-dish  is  tied  at  his 
back.  He  has  caught  a  goldfinch  and  is  running  up  with 
impetuous  eagerness  to  shew  it  to  his  little  playmate.  He 
is  holding  it  tenderly  enough,  but  as  though  in  fear  lest  he 
should  hurt  it.  Jesus  is  looking  at  him  with  heavenly 
gentleness  and  holding  His  bent  hand  over  the  head  of  the 
bird,  as  though  He  were  full  of  the  thought,  "  Not  one  of 
these  shall  fall  to  the  ground  without  your  Father."  The 
Virgin,  disturbed  from  her  reading,  .turns  round  to  look  at 
the  child  Baptist,  and  presses  her  hand  lovingly  on  his 
naked  shoulder.  The  Virgin  and  the  little  Baptist  have 
circular  nimbi ;  the  Divine  Child  has  no  nimbus,  and  does 
not  need  one,  such  is  the  supremacy  indicated  in  His 
features  and  look.  But  minute  inspection  shews  that 
golden  rays  once  radiated  around  His  head.  In  the  fore- 
ground are  some  exquisitely  painted  white  flowers. 1 

1  This  glorious  picture  was  broken  to  pieces  by  the  subsidence  of  the 
house  of  Lorenzo  Nasi,  but  was  most  skilfully  repaired  by  his  son.  As 
we  have  been  speaking  of  Correggio,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Raphael,  the 
reader  may  like  to  see  the  admirable  remarks  of  Morelli  about  them. 


184  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

A  frequent  mode  of  treating  the  Virgin  and  the  two 
children  was  to  paint  Jesus  sleeping,  and  the  Virgin  lift- 
ing up  her  finger  to  warn  the  Infant  Baptist  not  to  awake 
Him.  Such  a  picture  was  called  II  Silenzio.  In  our  Gal- 
lery (No.  1227)  we  have  a  specimen  of  its  treatment  by 
Marcello  Venusti,  from  a  well-known  design  by  Michael 
Angelo. 

The  supremest  works  of  Art  can  never  be  quite  ade- 
quately copied,  and  every  one  who  has  looked  long  and 
lovingly  at  Luini's  Madonna  deW  Agnello  at  Lugano,  sees 

He  says  that  "to  Correggio  fell  the  enviable  lot  to  evoke  the  purest, 
fullest  harmony  from  the  strings  already  struck  by  Leonardo,  by  Gior- 
gione,  and  by  Lorenzo  Lotto ;  one  and  the  same  feeling  animated  them 
all,  and  found  expression  in  their  works.  It  was  a  stage  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  human  mind.  The  mind,  emancipating  itself  from  the 
swaddling  bands  of  mediaeval  thought,  gazed  with  artless,  vivid  joy  at 
Man,  whole  and  free,  as  the  Greek  eye  saw  him  long  ago.  It  is  this  tri- 
umphant sense  of  having  found  again  the  true,  living,  free  Man  which 
speaks  to  us  from  the  works  of  the  great  Italian  masters  in  the  first 
decades  of  the  sixteenth  century.  This  sense  of  liberty  achieved  is 
what  inspires  the  figures  both  of  Correggio  and  Michael  Angelo,  the  two 
chief  representatives  of  this  attitude  of  mind  in  pictorial  art.  widely  as 
their  characters  might  differ  in  other  respects.  Michael  Angelo  had 
grown  up  in  a  rich  and  splendid  but  politically  distracted  city,  at  a  time 
when  moral  character  was  on  the  decline.  With  his  proud  nature,  he 
soon  became  disgusted  with  the  want  of  principle  and  the  idle  pleasure- 
hunting  of  his  contemporaries.  Allegri,  on  the  contrary,  spent  his  days 
in  a  small  provincial  town  among  Benedictine  monks.  As  Correggio  was 
endowed  by  nature  with  utter  sweetness  of  soul,  Michael  Angelo's  heroic 
temper  led  him  mainly  to  body  forth  the  noble  pride  of  a  free  nature, 
the  bitter  scorn  of  all  that  is  base,  unprincipled,  and  vain.  Out  of  his 
Titanic  figures,  the  emancipated  mind  of  man,  as  if  in  full  consciousness 
of  God-given  strength,  looks  down  with  Olympian  pride  on  the  chains  of 
bound  humanity.  His  cast  of  mind  belonged  to  the  age  of  Dante.  All 
minds  which  came  in  contact  with  his  were  subjugated  by  him,  or  attracted 
out  of  their  natural  orbit ;  and  thus  through  him  the  decline  of  Art  became 
still  more  precipitate  than  it  would  have  been  without  him.  Correggio 
operated  on  his  unhappy  imitators  more  indirectly  through  the  Carracci. 
Between  Michael  Angelo  and  Correggio  the  divine  Raphael  stands  mid- 
way, as  the  most  honoured,  most  calm,  most  perfect  of  the  artists,  the 
only  one  who  in  this  respect  was  the  equal  of  the  Greeks.  Happy  the 
land  that  has  such  men  to  offer  to  the  world!"  —  Italian  Masters, 
pp.  124-127. 


VIRGIN  AND  CHILD  WITH  THE  INFANT  BAPTIST.     185 

how  completely  copies  fail  to  convey  its  charm. 1  At  the 
right  is  a  sweet  little  St.  John,  whose  reed  cross  throws 
its  shadow  behind  him.  He  is  dressed  in  a  scanty  tunic 
of  white  wool,  which  turns  upward  at  the  edges,  and  is  a 
strong  child  with  curling  auburn  hair,  and  a  smile  which 


Holy  Family.    (FU.  Lippi.) 

every  copy  completely  vulgarizes.  He  is  pointing  at  the 
Child  Christ,  who  is  trying  to  mount  an  innocent  lamb, 
—  the  emblem  of  His  own  sinless  sacrifice.  One  of  His 
little  hands  grasps  the  lamb  by  the  ears,  and  He  looks 
upward  at  His  mother.  A  face  more  divine  in  its  inno- 

1  A  water-colour  copy  was  taken  many  years  ago  for  the  Arundel 
Society,  but  they  felt  it  to  be  so  inadequate  that  they  have  never  pub- 
lished it. 


15'3  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

cent  childhood  was  never  painted  even  by  Raphael,  much 
less  by  any  other  painter. 

The  Virgin,  standing  between  the  Children  with  a  look 
of  bright  but  pensive  humility,  and  a  pathetic  half-smile, 
looks  tenderly  towards  her  Son.  Her  hands  are  laid 
lightly  on  the  shoulders  of  both  children,  —  the  Divine  and 
the  Human,  — who  have  exchanged  their  emblems.  Her 
robe  is  of  rose-colour,  her  mantle  blue.  The  transparent 
veil  which  conceals  her  wavy  tresses,  half  covers  her  fore- 
head and  floats  delicately  over  her  dress.  There  is  in  this 
picture  an  indescribable  enchantment  of  innocence  and 
holiness,  —  of  virginal  innocence,  of  sweetness  touched  by 
an  indefinable  pathos.  In  Luini  we  see  the  old  traditions 
of  religious  feeling  surviving  the  spell  of  the  influences  of 
Leonardo;  of  artistic  skill  consummate  in  perfection,  but 
unaffected  by  any  taint  of  worldliness  and  pride. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  give  further  illustrations  of  this  sub- 
ject, but  great  religious  pictures  are  so  rare  in  the  later 
centuries,  that  I  may  mention  one. 

There  are  very  few  modern  Madonnas  at  which  we  can 
look  with  equanimity.  There  is  about  most  of  them  a  cold- 
ness, a  lack  of  spontaneity,  a  self-conscious  attempt  to 
reproduce  a  state  of  feeling  which  has  passed  away.  Even 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  failed  in  his  Holy  Family  almost  as 
completely  as  Hogarth.  There  is,  however,  one  modern 
Madonna  which  is  entirely  pleasing.  It  is  that  by  Angelica 
Kauffman  in  the  lovely  Colleoni  Chapel  at  Bergamo.  It  is 
to  the  left  of  the  altar  and  is  protected  by  a  curtain.  The 
little  Jesus  and  the  young  Baptist — both  of  them  lovely 
children  —  are  occupied  with  a  lamb  to  whom  the  Baptist 
is  offering  a  little  wooden  bowl  of  water.  The  Virgin 
bends  lovingly  over  them,  and  behind  her  St.  Joseph  is 
plucking  a  pomegranate  from  the  branch  of  the  tree.  The 
motif  of  the  picture  and  its  accomplishment  make  this  one 
of  the  best  Madonnas  which  the  eighteenth  century  pro- 
duced. 


BOOK    IV  (continued). 

HOLY    FAMILIES,    CONVERSATIONS,    AND    EX 
THRONED   MADONNA  WITH  SAINTS. 


"The  mother,  with  the  Child, 

Whose  teiider  winning  arts, 

Have  to  His  little  arms  beguiled 

So  many  wounded  hearts." 

—  M.  AKXOLD. 

"Qua!  si  lamenta,  perche  qui  si  moia, 
Per  viver  colassu,  non  vide  quive 
Lo  refrigerio  dell'  eterna  ploia." 

— DAXTE,  Farad.  XIV.  25-27. 


ENTHRONED  MADONNAS  AND  "HOLY  CONVERSATIONS." 

"  Die  Phantasie  ist  die  lebendige  Quelle,  die  durch  eigene  Kraft  sich 
emporarbeitet,  durch  eigene  Kraft  in  so  reichen,  so  frischen,  so  reinen 
Strahlen  aufschiesst."  —  LESSING. 

"  Faithful  religious  painters  interpret  to  those  of  us  who  can  read 
them,  so  far  as  they  already  see  and  know,  the  things  that  are  for  ever. 
'  Charity  never  faileth.1' 

"  And  the  one  message  they  bear  to  us  is  the  Commandment  of  the 
Eternal  Charity,  '  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thine  heart, 
and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.'1 

"  And  they  teach  us  that  whatever  higher  creatures  exist  between  Him 
and  us,  we  are  also  bound  to  know,  and  to  love  in  their  place  and  state, 
as  they  ascend  and  descend  on  the  stairs  of  their  watch  and  ward. 

"The  principal  masters  of  this  faithful  religious  school  known  to  me 
are  :  Giotto,  Angelico,  Sandro  Botticelli,  Filippo  Lippi,  Luini,  and  Car- 
paccio." 

—  RcsKiy,  On  the  Old  Road,  I.  340. 

A  Santa  Conversazione  in  Art  differs  from  a  Madonna  or 
a  Holy  Famity,  by  the  introduction  of  other  saints,  no 
matter  what  the  age  in  which  they  lived.  Such  a  picture 
is  intended  to  express  the  idea  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church, 
as  centred  in  the  Person  of  the  Redeemer,  and  based  upon 
belief  in  the  Incarnation.  These  paintings,  therefore,  ex- 
press the  same  conception  as  the  chapels  dedicated  to 
saints  grouped  round  the  apses  of  our  cathedrals.  The 
cruciform  structure  of  the  cathedral  represents  Christ  upon 
the  Cross ;  the  Lad}'  Chapel  symbolizes  the  Virgin  stand- 
ing by  the  head  of  Christ ;  the  radiating  chapels  represent 
the  Holy  Ones  of  God  partaking  in  the  glory  of  redemp- 
tion. 

Strictly  speaking,  the  name  Santa  Conversazione  only 
applies  to  pictures  where  the  Virgin  and  Child  are  seated 

189 


190  THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST   IN   ART. 

in  a  landscape  or  garden  with  the  saints,  as  though  in  the 
midst  of  them ;  but  for  convenience'  sake  I  here  speak  of 
classes  of  pictures  in  which  the  saints  are  grouped  around 
the  Madonna  and  the  Infant  Christ.  The  fact  that  such 
pictures  are  only  intended  to  express  a  general  conception 
may  serve  to  explain  why — as  for  instance,  in  the  Ma- 
donna di  San  Sisto,  or  the  Ansidei  Madonna  —  the  saints 
who  stand  beside  the  Mother  and  Child,  by  no  means 
always  have  their  attention  absorbed  in  contemplating 
the  Divine  Babe.  They  are  sometimes  turning  in  an- 
other direction,  or  are  engaged  in  reading,  or  some  other 
pursuit.  They  are  not  necessarily  supposed  to  be  present 
at  the  actual  scene. 

Among  splendid  early  specimens  of  the  enthroned 
Madonna,  we  may  notice  the  Maestd,  by  Simone  Martini, 
in  the  Palazzo  Publico  at  Siena  (1315).  The  Virgin  in 
queenly  array  is  seated  on  a  rich  Gothic  throne  among  a 
throng  of  saints  and  angels,  fifteen  on  either  side.  The 
Child  stands  on  her  knees  and  blesses.  Two  royal  female 
martyrs  —  St.  Ursula  and  St.  Catherine  —  stand  one  on 
either  side.  On  the  marble  before  the  steps  of  the  throne 
kneel  two  angels,  who  hold  up  baskets  of  flowers,  with  joy- 
ous and  earnest  faces.  Considering  the  early  date  at 
which  it  was  produced,  the  picture  is  of  surpassing 
merit. 1 

There  is  a  very  lovely  terra  cotta  bas-relief  by  Andrea 
della  Robbia  (f!528)  of  the  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  over 
the  altar  of  the  Church  dell'  Osservanza,  in  Siena.  She 
bends  lowly  with  folded  hands  before  the  majestic  figure 
of  her  Son,  while  angels  blow  trumpets,  and  cherubs  flutter 
around.  Five  saints  stand  below,  one  of  whom,  St.  Stephen, 
with  a  stone  in  his  hand,  looks  up  with  enraptured  gaze. 
The  Annunciation,  on  the  predella  below,  is  also  a  very 
charming  work.2 

The  impression  that  the  high  merits  of  Giovanni  Santi 

1  There  is  a  wood-cut  of  the  picture  given  in  Dohme's  series,  p.  24. 

2  A  wood-cut  is  given  in  Dohme,  p.  12. 


EXTHROXED   MADONNAS.  191 

have  been  a  little  unfairly  thrown  into  the  shade  by  the 
glory  of  his  matchless  son,  is  confirmed  by  his  Madonna 
and  Saints,  in  a  fresco  of  the  Church  of  San  Domenico  at 
Cagli.1  On  one  side  of  the  Virgin's  throne  stand  St. 
Peter  and  St.  Francis ;  on  the  other  side,  St.  Dominic,  with 
his  lily,  and  a  fine  St.  John  the  Baptist.  The  picture  is 
quite  Umbrian,  both  in  its  elaborate  symmetry  and  in  the 
softness  and  sweetness  of  expression  in  the  faces.  From 
the  centre  of  the  Baldacchino,  midway  between  the  heads 
of  the  Virgin  and  the  Child,  a  crown  is  hanging  and  a 
single  candle  burns  before  the  throne.  On  one  side  a 
young  angel  bends  his  head  and  closes  his  palms  in  prayer ; 
on  the  other  stands  his  companion  with  folded  arms.  Both 
have  long  and  flowing  hair,  and  in  the  enchanting  features 
of  the  one  to  the  left,  tradition  points  out  the  likeness  of 
the  boy  Raphael.2  In  the  upper  part  of  the  fresco  is  a 
Resurrection,  in  which  the  figures  of  the  five  sleeping 
soldiers,  and  the  one  who  seems  on  the  point  of  awakening, 
are  rendered  with  great  skill.  "The  composition  of  the 
lower  portion  is  derived  from  the  early  ancona  or  altar- 
piece,  in  which  the  Virgin  and  Child  occupied  a  central 
panel,  and  various  holy  personages  separate  compartments 
on  either  side  of  her.  This  artificial  grouping  was  occa- 
sionally adopted  to  a  late  period  by  many  even  of  the  great 
masters  of  the  Florentine  School,  and  was  not  altogether 
abandoned  by  Raphael  himself."  3 

There  was  a  great  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  by  Albrecht 
Diirer,  which  was  burnt  at  Munich  in  1674,  but  is  known 
by  an  old  copy  of  Jobst  Harrich.  It  has  all  Diirer 's  dig- 
nity and  fervour,  and  as  in  others  of  his  pictures,  he 

1  It  has  been    reproduced  by  the  Arundel  Society.      See  Forster, 
Denkm.  d.  Mai.  III.  PI.  23  ;    Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  225. 

2  This  angel  is  given  in  outline  in  Rosini,  III.  132,  and  has  been  repro- 
duced  by  the  Arundel  Society.     "The   boy,"  says  Sir  H.  A.  Layard, 
"  was  then  nine  years  old  ;  and  in  that  gentle  and  beautiful  face  may  per- 
haps be  traced  the  features  which  his  fond  master  Pietro,  and  he  himself 
in  manhood,  not  unfrequently  portrayed." 

3  Sir  H.  A.  Layard,  Giovanni  Sanzio  and  his  Fresco  at  Cagli,  1850. 


192  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

introduces  his  own  figure  in  the  background,  carrying  a 
tablet.1 

Fra  Filippo  Lippi's  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  in  the 
Academy  of  Arts  at  Florence  is  one  of  his  loveliest  and 
most  elaborate  pictures,  and  must  rank  among  the  greatest 
works  of  the  fifteenth  century.  It  was  painted  in  1441 
for  the  nunnery  of  San  Ambrogio,  in  Florence.  The 
Virgin,  in  bridal  attire,  kneels  and  prays  before  God  the 
Father,  who  is  represented  (as  by  Van  Eyck)  with  regal 
and  Papal  Crown.  An  angel  is  bending  low  on  either 
side.  In  two  circles  to  right  and  left  of  the  arched  reredos 
are  circles  which  contain  the  Angel  of  the  Annunciation 
and  the  Virgin  with  the  Dove.  In  triple  rows  beside  the 
throne  are  angels  holding  lilies.  Their  fair  curls  are 
crowned  with  roses,  and  saints  are  seated  between  their 
ranks.  Below  the  throne  stand  bishops  and  saints  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments,  among  whom  Bishop  Ambrose 
and  St.  John  the  Baptist  are  conspicuous,  and  monks  and 
virgins  also  kneel  among  them.  But  the  prominent  figure 
here  is  a  beautiful  novice.  Her  features  are  of  almost 
infantine  sweetness,  and  she  is  unmarked  by  any  of  the 
insignia  of  a  saint.  Two  children  kneel  before  her;  one 
opens  his  hands  in  admiration,  her  hand  rests  beneath 
the  chin  of  the  other.  She  looks  out  at  the  spectator 
with  earnest  gaze.  Behind  her  a  smiling  angel,  crowned 
with  a  rose  garland,  and  with  an  expression  almost  of  fun 
upon  his  features,  holds  his  hand  towards  a  Carmelite 
monk,  —  Fra  Filippo  himself,  —  who  is  praying  at  the  feet 
of  the  Baptist.  In  the  angel's  other  hand  is  a  scroll  on 
which  is  written,  Iste  perfecit  opus? 


1  Given  in  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  133. 

2  Legend  says  that  the  novice  is  Lucrezia  Buti,  whom  Fra  Filippo  took 
from  the  nunnery,  and  who  became  his  wife  and  the  mother  of  Filippino. 
But  the  tradition,  as  far  as  Lucrezia  is  concerned,  is  certainly  erroneous. 
The  story  about  Lucrezia  is  referred  to  the  year  1458  by  a  letter  of  Gio- 
vanni de'  Medici.     When  the  picture  was  begun  she  was  not  more  than 
six  years  old. 


.1 


ENTHRONED  MADOXXAS.          193 

This  is  the  picture  described  in  the  famous  lines  of  Mr. 
Browning :  — 

"  God  in  the  midst,  Madonna  and  her  Babe, 
Ringed  by  a  bowery,  flowery  angel-brood, 
Lilies,  and  vestments,  and  white  faces,  sweet 
As  puff  on  puff  of  grated  orris-root  .  .  . 
And  there  in  the  front,  of  course,  a  saint  or  two ;  — 
Saint  Ambrose,  who  puts  down  in  black  and  white, 
The  convent's  friends,  and  gives  them  a  long  day, 
And  Job  .  .  ." 

Mr.  J.  A.  Symonds  says  of  this  picture,  that  "  the 
angels  have  no  celestial  quality  of  form  or  feature ;  their 
grace  is  earthly.  The  spirit  breathed  upon  the  picture  is 
the  loveliness  of  colour,  quiet,  yet  glowing."  Similarly, 
Woermann  says  "  that  there  is  in  the  picture  no  affectation 
of  holiness,  little  ecclesiasticism,  but  rather  a  na'ive  and 
childlike  piety  combined  with  much  desire  for  earthly 
beauty."  The  picture  occupied  Fra  Filippo  for  five  years, 
and  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  he  would  thus  have 
introduced  the  pictures  of  himself  and  of  Lucrezia  Buti, 
had  their  relations  been  so  scandalous  as  Vasari  asserts. 

In  the  Uffizi  Madonna,  two  urchin-angels,  one  of  whom 
looks  out  at  the  spectator  with  an  expression  of  lovely 
playfulness,  are  handing  the  Divine  Child  to  the  Virgin, 
to  whom  He  is  stretching  out  His  arms.  But  before  she 
clasps  Him  in  her  arms,  she  folds  her  hands  to  Him  in 
prayer.  The  angels  of  Fra  Lippo,  if  less  spiritually 
lovely  than  those  of  Fra  Angelico,  are  even  more  humanly 
winning.  Over  this  picture,  says  Mr.  Symonds,  "might 
be  written,  'infinite  riches  in  a  little  room.' ': 

This  Madonna,  too,  is  asserted  to  be  Lucrezia  Buti.  But 
great  doubts  must  hang  over  Vasari's  scandals  on  that 
subject.  It  was  in  1458  that  Giovanni  de'  Medici  wrote, 
"We  have  also  laughed  a  good  deal  (im  pezzo~)  over  the 
escapade  (errore)  of  Fra  Filippo."  There  is  no  proof  that 
this  refers  to  his  asserted  abduction  of  Lucrezia,  which, 
moreover,  would  have  been  a  subject  far  too  serious  for 


194  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

any  one  to  laugh  over.  It  seems  to  have  been  discovered 
that  the  name  of  Fra  Filippo's  wife  was  Spinetta  Buti,  not 
Lucrezia.1 

1  It  is  doubtful  whether  Vasari  has  not  wronged  Fra  Lippo  as  much  as 
he  has  wronged  Andrea  del  Castagno. 

Era  Filippo  was  born  about  1406,  of  poor  parents,  and  being  left  an 
orphan,  was  placed  in  the  Carmelite  Convent  by  an  aunt.  Here  he 
showed  his  bent  by  scribbling  fantocci  over  his  books.  He  left  the  con- 
vent in  1431.  The  story  that  he  was  captured  by  Barbary  pirates,  and 
released  for  the  skill  which  he  shewed  in  sketching  on  the  wall  the  head 
of  the  Moor  to  whom  he  had  been  sold  as  a  slave,  is  probably  a  mere 
romance  ;  and  the  anecdote  that  Cosmo  de'  Medici  locked  him  up  to  finish 
his  painting,  and  that  he  tore  up  his  sheets  and  escaped  into  the  street  on 
loose  adventures,  is  also  very  dubious.  That  in  1458  he  eloped  with  and 
married  Lucrezia  —  or  rather,  as  critics  have  now  discovered,  her  elder 
sister,  Spinetta  Buti  —  may  be  true.  He  was  then  forty-six,  and  the  girl 
was  twenty-four ;  she  was  a  beautiful  novice,  or  perhaps  ward  rather 
than  novice,  of  the  nuns  of  Sta.  Margherita  at  Prato.  Vasari's  story  is, 
that  she  sat  as  a  Madonna,  that  he  carried  her  away  during  an  exhibition 
of  the  Virgin  at  Prato,  and  that  Filippino  Lippi  was  the  son  of  this 
marriage.  But  if  so,  "he  only  did  openly  and  bravely  what  the  highest 
prelates  in  the  Church  did  basely  and  in  secret ;  also,  he  loved  where  they 
only  lusted ;  and  he  has  been  proclaimed  therefore  by  them,  and  too 
foolishly  believed  by  us,  to  have  been  a  shameful  person."  *  But  even 
this  story  is  surrounded  by  difficulties.  Lippo  continues  to  call  himself 
"Brother."  The  Pope  certainly,  condoned  his  sin,  or  his  error,  or  what- 
ever it  was,  and  is  said  to  have  sanctioned  his  marriage.  His  son  Filip- 
pino erected  him  a  monument  at  the  expense  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici. 
There  is  no  evidence  for  the  statement  that  he  was  poisoned  by  Lucrezia' s 
relations.  On  August  13,  1439,  he  wrote  a  letter,  in  which  he  begs  Piero 
de'  Medici  to  send  him  some  corn  and  wine,  as  it  has  pleased  God  to  leave 
him  "the  poorest  friar  in  Florence,"  and  as  he  has  charge  of  "six  mar- 
riageable nieces,  who  cannot  live  without  his  means."  In  1452  he  was 
chaplain  to  a  convent  of  nuns  at  San  Giovannino  at  Florence,  and  in 
1457  was  rector  in  San  Quirico  at  Legnaia  Spoleto,  and  he  continued  to 
be  employed  on  sacred  subjects  both  at  Prato  and  Spoleto.  All  this 
seems  wholly  inconsistent  with  Vasari's  account  of  his  life.  The  reader 
will  find  it  hard  to  associate  Fra  Lippo's  pictures  and  the  portrait  of 
himself  as  a  grave  and  humble  suppliant,  which  he  introduces  into  some 
of  them,  with  the  bluff  and  rowdy  hero  whom  Mr.  Browning,  following 
Vasari,  depicts  in  his  Fra  Lippo  Lippi.t  Vasari,  though  so  delightful  a 

*  Raskin,  Fors  Clavigera,  XXII.  4. 

t  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  poem  was  written  before  the  publication  of  the  docu- 
ments published  by  G.  Milanesi,  in  his  Giornale  Storico  degli  Archivi  Toscani,  and 
Dr.  Gaye's  Carteggio. 


ENTHRONED  MADONNAS.          195 

Woermann  says,  with  striking  truth,  that  "  Fra  Filippo 
was  the  first  to  produce  a  class  of  pictures,  of  which  the 
Florentine  School  was  thenceforth  an  inexhaustible  factory, 
till  Raphael  gave  them  their  highest  expression,  —  pictures, 
that  is  to  say,  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  with  or  without 
other  figures,  in  which  all  that  is  mystical  and  theological 
disappears  before  the  human  and  idyllic  sentiments  of 
maternal  love  and  childlike  innocence.  The  Madonna  is 
always  essentially  Florentine ;  her  hair  is  braided  in  the 
fashion  of  the  day,  with  a  snood  or  veil ;  the  ideal  feeling 
is  soon  altogether  lost.  Even  the  type  of  beauty  ceases  to 
be  regular  and  conventional.  Still  she  is  charming,  and 
the  Infant  is  tenderly  studied  from  nature.  The  angels 
and  St.  John  are  His  playfellows,  and  beside  the  adolescent 
and  clothed  angels,  naked  infants  — putti,  the  Italians  call 
them  —  are  introduced." 

A  typical  and  exquisite  Madonna  and  Saints,  in  its 
simplest  form,  is  furnished  by  the  famous  Giorgione  in 
Castel-Franco. 

The  Virgin  in  this  picture  is  seated  on  a  stone  screen, 
"  in  front  of  which  a  double  plinth  —  equal  in  height  to 

writer,  is  not  only  careless  and  credulous,  but  is  also  constantly  misled  by 
"private  interests,  prejudices,  and  partial  affections."  It  is  certain  that 
Fra  Lippo  never  abandoned  the  religious  habit,  which  yet  he  could  hardly 
have  retained  had  he  been  guilty  of  an  offence  as  heinous  as  elopement 
with  a  nun.  He  calls  himself  Prater  to  the  last,  paints  himself  with  the 
tonsure  alia  fratesca,  and  is  recorded  as  Prater  Philippus  in  the  obituary 
of  his  monastery.  Florence  contended  with  Spoleto  for  the  honour  of 
possessing  his  remains.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  his  brethren  of  the 
Carmine  were  by  no  means  ashamed  of  him. 

Whatever  may  be  the  unsolved  mysteries  of  Fra  Lippo's  life,  certain 
it  is  that  he  mainly  devoted  his  art  to  the  glory  of  the  Virgin.  He  has 
still  preserved  some  of  the  tenderness  and  sweetness  of  Fra  Angelico, 
while  he  has  added  to  it  some  of  the  skill  and  individuality  of  Masaccio. 
Doubtless  he  was  a  man  of  the  warm  temperament  which  so  often  accom- 
panies glowing  genius ;  but  as  far  as  we  are  able  to  disentangle  the  prob- 
lems of  his  story,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  a  much 
better,  and  not  a  worse,  man  than  many  of  the  ecclesiastics  of  the  day 
who  held  their  heads  high,  and  whose  more  veiled  irregularities  did  not, 
in  that  age,  lose  them  the  respect  of  their  contemporaries. 


196  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

the  stature  of  the  foreground  saints  —  projects.  On  the 
lower  step  of  the  plinth  is  a  round  with  the  scutcheon  of 
the  Costanzi.  From  the  foot  of  the  throne  falls  a  striped 
carpet,  overlaid  by  a  green  flowered  damask  rug.  The 
high  and  narrow  back  of  the  seat  sparkles  with  red  and 
gold  embroidery."  The  sky  is  cloudless,  the  landscape 
quiet  and  serene,  the  colour  exquisite,  the  expression 
tender,  the  attitude  graceful,  the  technical  skill  perfect. 
The  Virgin,  with  a  look  far  removed  from  all  earthly 
things,  carries  on  her  knees  the  naked  babe,  who  half  sits, 
and  half  leans  towards  Sail  Liberale,  who  stands  with  his 
right  foot  raised  at  the  heel  by  a  slight  projection  of  the 
chequered  floor.  He  stands  with  the  helmet  on  his  head, 
the  dagger  at  his  hip,  the  gloves  in  his  hand,  passive  and 
almost  feminine  in  ^features.  .  .  .  St.  Francis  to  the  right, 
points  to  the  scar  in  his  side,  and  shews  the  wounds  on  his 
hands ;  the  rope  round  his  waist,  the  cowl  thrown  off,  the 
feet  bare,  and  one  of  them  also  resting  on  the  projecting 
edge  of  the  floor.1 

This  picture  is  one  of  Giorgione's  few  indisputably  gen- 
uine works ;  and  Mr.  Ruskin,  though  he  has  only  seen  the 
reproduction  of  it  by  the  Arundel  Society,  says  that  "  it 
unites  every  artistic  quality  for  which  the  painting  of 
Venice  has  been  renowned,  with  a  depth  of  symbolism  and 
nobleness  of  manner  exemplary  of  all  that  in  any  age  of  Art 
has  characterized  its  highest  masters.  Giorgione  in  nowise 
intends  you  to  suppose  that  the  Madonna  ever  sat  thus  on 
a  pedestal  with  a  coat  of  arms  upon  it ;  or  that  St.  George  2 
and  St.  Francis  ever  stood,  or  do  now  stand,  in  that  manner 
beside  her,  but  that  a  living  Venetian  may,  in  such  vision, 
most  deeply  and  rightly  so  conceive  of  her  and  of  them." 

"Secondly,  observe  that  the  ideas  which  the  picture 
conveys  to  you  are  of  noble,  beautiful,  and  constant  things  ; 
not  of  disease,  vice,  thrilling  action,  or  fatal  accident."  3 

1  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  Painters  of  Northern  Italy,  II.  132. 

2  Really  San  Liberale,  a  local  soldier-saint. 
8  Stones  of  Venice,  Travellers'  ed.,  II.  177. 


ENTHRONED   MADONNAS.  191 

In  one  of  his  Oxford  lectures,  Mr.  Ruskin  spoke  of  this 
picture  as  one  of  the  two  most  perfect  in  the  world ;  alone 
in  the  world  as  an  imaginative  representation  of  Christian- 
ity, with  a  monk  and  a  soldier  on  either  side,  the  soldier 
bearing  the  white  cross  of  everlasting  peace  on  the  purple 
ground  of  former  darkness.  In  Giorgione's  time  the  Lord 
of  Castel-Franco  was  a  bold  condottiere  named  Cuzio  Cos- 
tanzo.  He  had  been  in  the  service  of  Queen  Cornara 
of  Cyprus,  who  had  made  her  home  in  the  neighbouring 
Asolo.  His  young  and  brave  son  Matteo  had  been  killed 
at  Ravenna  in  1504,  and  buried  with  his  ancestors.  It  is 
said  that  Giorgione  was  commissioned  to  paint  this  altar- 
piece  in  memory  of  the  young  Matteo,  and  that  the  lovely 
figure  of  St.  Liberale  is  his  likeness.  The  armour  is  cer- 
tainly the  same  as  that  represented  on  a  stone  effigy  of 
Matteo  in  the  cemetery  of  Castel-Franco,  with  a  helmet 
at  his  feet  resembling  that  worn  by  the  saint.  Another 
tradition  says  that  the  two  saints  are  likenesses  of 
Giorgione  himself  and  his  brother.  In  any  case,  the 
glorious  figure  of  a  knight  in  glimmering  silver  armour  in 
our  National  Gallery  is  a  study  for  this  picture,  though  the 
figure  is  unhelmeted,  and  the  right  hand  idle.  But  the 
genius  of  the  artist  has  put  into  the  faces  an  indescribable 
yearning  and  beauty.  The  head  of  the  Virgin,  especially, 
has  perhaps  never  been  surpassed  for  expressive  and  sor- 
rowful dignit}7,  and  the  effect  produced  upon  us  by  the 
whole  picture  can  scarcely  be  defined. 

The  Ansidei  Madonna,  for  which  the  nation  gave 
£70,000,  or  <£14  for  every  square  inch,  belongs  to 
Raphael's  second  period,  1504-1508,  when  he  studied  in 
Florence,  and  (not  wholly  to  his  advantage)  learnt  much 
from  the  methods  and  genius  of  Michael  Angelo  and 
Leonardo.  The  loss  of  what  he  unlearnt  in  that  period 
was  greater  than  his  gain.  Though  he  advanced  far  beyond 
the  tender  pietistic  mannerism  and  "  semi-woful  ecstasy " 
of  Perugino,  which  he  had  already  not  only  equalled,  but 
surpassed,  he  also  began  to  acquire  the  fatal  tendency  to 


198  THE   LIFE 'OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

value  artistic  methods  more  than  the  expression  of  religious 
feeling.  This  Madonna,  painted  in  1506,  does  not,  however, 
markedly  betray  the  advancing  degeneracy  of  conception. 
Raphael  is  still  Peruginesque  in  feeling,  if  he  is  becoming 
less  so  in  manner.  As  a  picture,  it  is  perfect,  and  in  perfect 
condition.  The  figures  of  St.  John  the  Baptist — the  type 
of  holiness  in  contemplative  seclusion  —  and  of  St.  Nicholas 
of  Bari  —  the  type  of  holiness  in  active  service  —  are  full 
of  dignity.  The  Virgin  is  still  not  only  lovely,  but 
queenly,  and  the  Child  is  not  yet  simply  human.  The  Na- 
tional Gallery  is  rich  in  noble  Madonnas  of  the  School  of 
Ferrara.  They  are  specially  interesting  from  the  curious- 
ness  and  splendour  of  their  accessories.  That  by  Cosimo 
Tura  is  a  specimen  of  his  marvellous  powers  as  a  colourist. 
It  is  a  sort  of  fantasy  in  red  and  green,  which  two  colours 
are  placed  side  by  side,  not  only  in  all  the  robes,  but  even 
in  the  architecture,  which  is  adorned  with  the  cup  and  ball 
ornament.  Of  the  six  angels,  two  have  violins,  two  have 
guitars,  and  one  is  playing  a  regal,  which  the  othei  >lows 
with  a  curious  pair  of  bellows.  Interesting  as  the  picture 
is,  it  is  surpassed  by  the  superb  composition  which  hangs 
beside  it,  by  Ercole  di  Guilio  Grandi,  once  an  altarpiece 
at  Ferrara.  Few  pictures  are  so  rich  in  finished  details 
or  finer  in  general  effect.  To  the  left,  on  a  pavement  of 
white  and  brown  marble,  stands  the  youthful  figure  of  St. 
William.  He  is  in  full  armour,  except  that  he  wears  no 
helmet,  and  his  hair  flows  in  rich  masses  round  his  strong 
grave  face.  Opposite  him  is  the  ascetic  Baptist,  who  holds 
out  a  book.  His  worn  and  anxious  expression  is  in  singular 
contrast  with  the  peace  on  the  face  of  the  young  warrior. 
The  solemn  Virgin  is  robed  in  dark  blue  and  red,  and  the 
glorious  Child  stands  erect  upon  her  knee,  lifting  His 
hand  to  bless.  She  is  seated  on  a  superb  throne.  In  front 
of  the  Predella  is  an  ornament  intended  for  an  embossed 
ivory  relief  of  Adam  and  Eve  tempted  by  the  serpent,  and 
on  either  side  is  the  head  of  a  prophet  in  grisaille,  repre- 
senting white  marble.  The  visible  sides  of  the  octagonal 


ANSIDEI  MADONNA. 
From  the  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


Raphael. 


ENTHRONED  MADONNAS. 


199 


bases  below  are  painted  alternately  in  grisaille  and  in  rich 
colouring  with  scenes   which   represent  the   Massacre  of 


Enthroned  Madonna.     (Ercole  di  Guilio  Grandi.) 

the  Innocents,  the  Presentation,  and  Christ  among  the 
Doctors.  The  upper  and  lower  steps  are  separated  by  a 
border  of  stags  and  swans,  both  symbolical.  Over  the 


200  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

Virgin  is  an  elaborate  arch,  of  which  the  roof  is  adorned 
with  slabs  of  porphyiy,  with  a  gilt  boss  in  the  centre  of 
each.  The  dolphins  of  the  frieze  above  are  enlblems  of 
love.  The  archivolt  is  enriched  with  half  figures  like 
those  of  Raphael  in  the  Loggie  of  the  Vatican,  and  on  either 
side,  on  gold  mosaic,  are  the  Virgin  and  the  Angel  Gabriel. 
This  noble  and  splendidly  inventive  work  must  rank  high 
among  the  treasures  of  the  Gallery. 

In  the  same  room  is  a  large  and  important  work  by 
Garofalo,  very  beautiful  in  its  colouring.  The  Virgin  sits 
under  a  baldacchino,  with  curtains  of  green.  Behind  her 
is  a  black  screen  with  a  gorgeous  pattern  of  gold  and 
crimson.  On  one  side  stand  the  stately  figures  of  St. 
William  and  St.  Clara;  on  the  other,  of  St.  Francis  and 
St.  Anthony.1 

Another  fine  Ferrarese,  or  rather  Bolognese,  Enthroned 
Madonna  and  Child  with  Saints  is  that  by  Lorenzo  Costa 
(N.  G.  29).  It  is  painted  on  rensa  (fine  linen),  origi- 
nally attached  to  wood,  but  lined  with  canvas  at  Antwerp 
in  1848.  It  is  one  of  the  best  pictures  of  this  "  Perugino 
of  Ferrara,"  and  Calvi  calls  it  uno  stupore.2  It  is  marked 
by  the  Ferrarese  device  of  an  opening  between  the  upper 
and  lower  part  of  the  throne,  though  no  landscape  is  visible. 

The  last  Santa  Conversazione  which  I  need  mention  is 
by  the  great  and  learned  Paduan  painter,  Andrea  Mantegna 
(1431-1506).  Born  at  Vicenza,  and  like  Giotto,  begin- 
ning life  as  a  shepherd-boy,  he  became  the  pupil  and 
adopted  son  of  Squarcione,  and  married  a  sister  of  Gentile 
and  Giovanni  Bellini.  Richter  called  this  Madonna  "  one 
of  the  choicest  pictures  in  the  National  Gallery."  In  the 
figures,  and  above  all,  in  the  drapery,  we  see  the  statu- 

1  In  the  Ferrara  Gallery  is  a  fine  Madonna  and  Saints,  by  Ercole  di 
Koberto  Grandi,  with  a  division  between  the  seat  and  the  pedestal  of  the 
Madonna's  throne,  shewing  a  landscape  behind  it.    This  device  was  pecul- 
iar to  the  Ferrarese  School,  and  is  said  to  have  been  introduced  by  Cosme 
Tura.     Another,  by  Savoldo,  in  the  same  gallery,  is  a  fine  specimen  of 
his  mysterious  colouring. 

2  See,  too,  Rio,  Art  Chretien,  II. 


EXTHROXED  MADONXAS. 


201 


esque  tendencies  of  Andrea's  art,  and  the  effect  which  had 
been  exercised  on  his  imagination  by  long  study  of  the 
antique.  In  all  his  pictures  great  attention  is  paid  to 
modelling,  chiaroscuro,  and  prospective.  But  the  picture 
is  none  the  less  a  truly  religious  picture  in  its  grave  and 
noble  sentiment.  In  the  face  of  the  Virgin  we  see  a 


Santa  Convcrsazidne.     (Andrea  Mantegna.) 

mother's  pride  and  tenderness,  tempered  by  devotion,  as 
she  upholds  with  both  hands  the  Infant  Christ,  who 
stands  upright  on  her  knee,  His  right  hand  uplifted  in 
blessing.  "It  is,"  says  Mr.  Monkhouse,  "the  earliest  re- 
presentation of  the  Holy  Infant  that  we  possess  in  which 
the  expression  of  His  Divinity  is  given  in  statuesque  form." 


202  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

At  her  right  stands  a  majestic  St.  John  the  Baptist,  with 
his  reed  cross,  and  the  scroll  inscribed  with  the  words, 
Ecce  Agnus  Dei.  On  the  left-hand  side  —  an  illustration 
of  the  true  repentance,  which  was  preached  by  the  Herald 
of  the  Wilderness — stands  the  Magdalene,  holding  in  her 
hand  a  vase  of  precious  ointment,  because  she  was  erro- 
neously identified  with  Mary  of  Bethany.  Soft  silver 
clouds  are  floating  over  the  sky.  The  background  is 
formed  by  a  garden  of  orange  trees  with  dark  green  leaves 
and  golden  fruit.  The  picture  is  characterized  by  its 
dignity  and  sincerity. 

Mantegna's  splendid  Madonna  della  Vittoria  was  painted 
for  the  Marquis  Francesco  Gonzago  of  Mantua,  after  his 
victory  over  Charles  XIII.  at  Furnova,  in  1485.  The 
Virgin  is  seated  in  a  green  bower.  St.  Michael  and  St. 
Maurice  hold  the  skirts  of  her  mantle.  The  infant  St. 
John  stands  beside  her.  The  marquis  in  full  armour 
kneels  below.1 

The  San  Zaccaria  Madonna  of  Giovanni  Bellini  was 
painted  in  1505,  and  must  rank  with  his  Madonna  in 
the  Frari  among  the  loveliest  pictures  in  the  world.  The 
Virgin  is  seated  on  a  throne  with  renaissance  ornaments  on 
a  pavement  of  squares  of  marble.  On  the  summit  of  the 
throne  is  the  crowned  head  of  an  aged  king.  On  its 
lowest  step  a  long-haired  angel  is  playing  his  violin.  On 
either  side  stand  St.  Catherine  and  St.  Peter,  St.  Lucia 
and  St.  Jerome.  The  apostle  and  the  saints  are  figures  of 
unequalled  grandeur,  and  their  "  moral  beauty  "  has  none 
of  the  predetermined  sweetness  and  celestial  affectation 
which  mark  the  saints  of  Perugino.  The  Virgin  and  Child 
are  as  noble  as  those  of  Bellini  invariably  are.  The  Virgin 
is  always  serious,  and  ideal  even  in  costume,  the  Infant 
Christ  is  not  only  well  formed,  but  as  sublime  and  im- 
pressive in  action  and  position  as  is  possible,  without 
destroying  the  expression  of  childhood.2 

1  A  sketch  is  given  in  Rosini,  III.  196. 

2  Burckhardt  thinks  that  in  Venice  Giovanni  Bellini  was  the  first  to 


ENTHRONED   MADONNAS. 


203 


The  Frari  Madonna  is  another  picture,  which,  once  seen 
and  enjoyed,  can  never  be  forgotten.  It  is  one  of  the 
truly  great  pictures  of  the  world.  It  was  a  work  of 
Giovanni's  glad,  peaceful,  ever-progressive  old  age.  "  The 
new  juxtaposition  of  saintly  figures,  without  definite  emo- 
tion, or  any  distinct  devotion,  gives  the  effect  of  something 


Frari  Madonna.     (Bellini.) 

supersensual  by  the  harmonious  union  of  so  many  free  and 
beautiful  characters  in  a  blessed  state  of  existence."  In 
the  expression  of  calm  happiness  and  lofty  dignity,  Gio- 
vanni Bellini  is  the  greatest  of  all  painters.  In  that  rank 

remove  the  saints  from  the  side  panels  of  the  ancona  into  the  picture 
itself. 


204  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

Albrecht  Diirer  —  no  mean  judge  —  placed  him,  even  in 
extreme  old  age,  among  the  painters  of  his  own  day,  though 
they  counted  amongst  them  a  Giorgione  and  a  Titian. 

On  the  golden  vault  over  the  head  of  the  glad  Virgin, 
is  inscribed :  — 

"  Janua  certa  poli,  due  mentera,  dirige  vitam, 
Quae  peragam  commissa  tuae  sint  omnia  curae." 

The  head  of  the  Virgin  is  thrown  into  relief  by  the  rich 
golden-woven  curtains  that  hang  behind  it,  and  in  her  eyes 
is  that  indescribably  far-off  look  which  we  only  find  in  the 
works  of  the  most  religious  painters.  On  the  steps  of  the 
throne  sit  two  child-angels,  with  radiant  faces,  and  each 
with  one  foot  on  the  marble.  One  wears  a  wreath  of 
flowers  round  his  sunny  curls,  and  is  absorbed  in  the  music 
of  his  flute.  The  face  of  the  other,  who  plays  a  mandolin, 
is  more  thoughtfully  glad. 

The  special  glory  of  Bergamo  are  the  masterpieces  of 
Lorenzo  Lotto  in  the  churches  of  San  Bartolommeo  and 
San  Spirito.  In  the  latter,  the  glorified  Virgin  and  Child 
appear  in  a  glow  of  rose  and  gold  over  a  splendid  group 
of  saints.  The  crowd  of  enraptured  angels  round  the 
heavenly  vision  are  bathed  in  the  celestial  light,  and  their 
very  wings  are  of  rose-colour.  The  picture  reminds  us  of 
the  manner  of  Correggio,  as  Lotto's  often  do,  though  they 
shew  far  greater  depths  of  feeling.  No  one  who  has  seen 
this  rosy,  glowing  San  Spirito  picture,  can  fail  to  see  the 
rapturous  piety  which  it  expresses,  or  can  ever  forget  it. 
"  The  hovering  garland  of  celestial  beings,  so  ethereal  that 
one  feels  they  may  pass  like  a  rainbow  from  sight,  is  as 
charming  in  form  as  it  is  in  colour.  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
as  a  little  child  romping  with  a  lamb,  sits  in  the  fore- 
ground at  the  foot  of  the  throne.  This  little  group  is  full 
of  grace.  The  winning  smile  on  the  child's  face  is  re- 
flected in  the  countenance  of  the  lamb,  which  laughs  as 
merrily  as  lamb  could  laugh.  The  picture  is  dated,  1521. '?1 
1  A.  C.  Hare,  North  Italy,  I.  226. 


ENTHRONED  MADONNAS.  205 

This  picture  represents  Lotto  at  his  best.  The  other 
gigantic  altarpiece,  at  the  church  of  San  Bernardino,  is  no 
less  splendid.  Boy  angels  extemporize  a  canopy  by  hold- 
ing over  the  Virgin's  head  the  folds  of  the  green  curtain 
which  hangs  behind  her  throne.  She  is  clad  in  a  robe  of 
the  richest  crimson.  An  angel  sits  to  write  on  the  flower- 
strewn  step  of  the  throne.  Like  Cimabue's  Madonna,  this 
picture  was  carried  to  its  destination  by  rejoicing  multi- 
tudes. 

Some  of  the  best  Madonnas  of  the  gifted  Moretto  are  in 
the  great  hall  of  the  Palazzo  Martinengo. 

Among  them  is  an  enthroned  Madonna,  in  which,  as  is 
so  common,  the  Virgin  is  seated  under  a  stately  arch, 
dressed  in  a  splendid  robe  of  red  and  white.  In  her  arms 
is  the  Holy  Child,  and  at  her  right  on  the  folds  of  the  great 
green  mantle  which  has  fallen  from  her  shoulders,  stands 
the  Infant  Baptist  with  his  cross.  They  are  all  three  upon 
cherub-supported  clouds,  and  surrounded  by  a  dazzling 
nimbus.  Underneath  the  cherub  heads  there  is  a  space  of 
deep  blue  sky.  The  saints  beneath  are  St.  Euphemia,  with 
her  son,  St.  Nicolas  —  evidently  from  the  same  fine  model 
as  in  the  picture  of  the  Roncaglia  family,  St.  Catherine  and 
St.  Augustine.  In  this,  as  in  all  Moretto's  pictures,  the 
characteristics  are  holiness,  repose,  dignity,  and  superb, 
though  always  solemn,  colouring. 

In  Moretto's  altarpiece  at  San  Clemente  we  have  one  of 
his  greatest  works.  The  Virgin  and  Child  sit  under  arches 
over  which  roses  twine.  On  the  ledge  sit  two  cherubs, 
one  of  whom  has  his  arm  round  a  flowery  pilaster ;  the 
other  is  looking  through  the  blossoms.  The  Child  on  the 
Virgin's  knee  holds  an  apple  in  His  hand.  St.  Clement, 
in  full  episcopal  robes,  gives  the  blessing  in  the  presence 
of  St.  Dominic,  St.  Catherine,  a  lovely  Magdalene,  and  St. 
Florian,  who  holds  a  banner  and  palm  branch,  and  is  clad 
in  a  magnificent  suit  of  blue  and  silver  armour  inlaid  with 
gold.  There  are  cherubs  on  the  balcony  above. 

There  is  in  the  Brera,  a  Madonna  in  glory,  with  four 


206  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

saints  on  earth  below,  by  Savoldo,  the  noble  painter  of 
Brescia.  An  angel  plays  music  on  either  side.  Sir  C. 
Eastlake  regards  this  picture  "as  one  of  the  finest  and 
most  noteworthy  in  the  Brera." 

It  is  one  of  the  most  unfortunate  gaps  in  our  National 
Gallery  that  we  possess  no  specimen  of  the  work  of  Fra 
Bartolomrneo.  Some  of  his  Madonnas  are  exquisite.  That 
in  the  church  of  San  Martino,  at  Lucca,  was  painted  in 
1509.  The  Virgin  is  seated  on  a  sort  of  altar,  on  the  step 
of  which  an  angel  sings.  Two  others  hang  in  the  air  to 
place  a  crown  of  gold  on  the  Virgin's  head.  They  are  in 
the  air,  as  in  their  natural  element.  Light  and  shadow 
pass  with  delicious  interchange  over  their  fresh  and  rosy 
limbs ;  and  if  the  Virgin  draws  us  to  God,  she  also  makes 
us  love  humanity.  The  picture  reminds  us  of  Carpaccio 
and  Giovanni  Bellini.  The  Frate's  Madonna  of  the  Bal- 
dacchino,  in  the  Louvre,  might  have  been  painted  by 
Raphael  himself.  The  majestic  air,  the  subtle  folds  of  the 
drapery,  the  brilliant  colour  "  e'clatante  comme  une  fanfare, 
douce  comme  un  cantique,"  the  general  harmony  and  ten- 
derness of  the  picture  shew  us  the  Florentine  School  at  the 
zenith  of  its  power.  In  the  Madonna  of  this  great  and 
noble  master  at  Panshanger,  we  see  the  influence  of  Leo- 
nardo and  Raphael,  mingled 'with  the  religious  devotion  of 
Savonarola  and  San  Marco.  The  Virgin  is  turning  towards 
the  little  Baptist,  while  with  a  look  of  deep  thoughtfulness 
the  Child  Jesus  takes  the  cross  of  reeds. 

Still  more  striking  is  the  Madonna  della  Misericordia 
(A.D.  1515)  of  this  great  Florentine,  who  painted  nothing 
impure  and  nothing  ignoble.  It  is  in  the  Church  of 
San  Romano  at  Lucca,1  and  furnishes  the  most  absolute 
antithesis  possible  to  the  Last  Judgment  of  Michael  Angelo. 

1  Given  by  Rosini  and  by  Dohine,  III.  13.  How  much  more  mundane 
is  the  feeling  of  Andrea  del  Sarto's  Madonna  delle  Arpie,  painted  in 
1517 !  Here  the  Virgin  is  a  portrait  of  his  wife,  Lucrezia  Fede.  St. 
Francis  and  St.  John  stand  on  either  side.  Why  should  there  be  a  bas- 
relief  of  harpies  on  the  Virgin's  throne  ? 


MAPOXXA  DELLA  MISERICORUIA.      Pro  Bartolommeo. 
From  the  Picture  in  the  Church  of  San  Romano,  Lucca. 


ENTHRONED   MADONNAS.  207 

It  is  perhaps  his  masterpiece,  —  exquisite  in  symmetry,  in 
colour,  in  dignity,  in  devotional  feeling.  The  enraptured 
Virgin,  with  a  look  of  intense  piety  and  earnestness  on 
her  upturned  face,  stands  upon  an  altar,  —  one  hand  uplifted 
to  her  Divine  Son,  while  her  other  is  outspread  to  indicate 
the  crowd  of  suppliants  below.  Christ  bends  from  the  sky 
above.  Leaning  down  over  her,  and  over  the  representa- 
tives of  the  human  race,  He  unfolds  His  left  hand,  on  which 
the  scar  is  visible,  and  uplifts  the  right  in  benediction, 
while  His  face  expresses  an  infinite  pity  and  love.  Three 
sweet  child-angels  uphold  the  tablet  above  Mary's  head. 
Two  others  spread  out  protectingly  the  folds  of  the  mantle 
with  which  she  covers  and  overshadows  the  throng  below. 
They  represent  youths  and  maidens,  and  mothers  with 
their  little  ones,  and  aged  men  and  women,  and  monks  and 
priests,  and  rich  and  poor,  — worshippers  of  every  age  and 
degree,  —  a  truly  noble  £/oup.  Some  of  them  point  up- 
wards at  the  pleading  JYf  other  of  Compassion,  and  the  peace 
of  God  is  upon  their  beautiful  and  solemn  faces,  full  of 
joy  and  hope  and  prayer. 

The  Frate's  Madonna  del  Trono  (A.D.  1511)  in  the 
Uffizi  was  left  unfinished  at  his  death.  It  is  in  black  and 
white.  The  Virgin  is  lovely,  and  even  Raphael  has  scarcely 
surpassed  the  beautiful  boy-angels. 

We  may  refer  to  one  later  picture  of  the  Madonna, 
Domenichino's  very  famous  Madonna  of  the  Rosary  in  the 
gallery  of  Bologna.1 

Domenico  Zampieri,  commonly  called  Domenichino,  was 
a  pupil  first  of  Denis  Calvaert,  then  of  Carracci,  and  lived 
for  some  time  in  the  house  of  his  friend,  Albani,  at  Rome. 
He  died  at  Naples  in  1641,  and  it  was  suspected  that  he 
had  been  poisoned  by  the  jealous  rivalry  of  the  three  in- 
famous painters,  Corenzio,  Ribera  (Spagnoletto),  and  Car- 
racciolo,  known  as  "  the  Cabal  of  Naples."  Domenichino 

1  There  is  said  to  be  no  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  before  the  fourteenth 
century,  and  the  use  of  the  rosary  seems  to  have  stimulated  the  concep- 
tion. Murillo  painted  at  least  six  Madonnas  of  the  Rosary. 


208  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

lived  in  days  when  "-the  Age  of  Faith  "  —the  age  of  deep 
religious  feeling  and  devotion — had  lost  all  its  fervour. 
This  splendid  Madonna  del  Rosario  is  the  glorification  of  a 
dogma  and  of  a  monkish  invention,  more  than  of  Christ. 
It  is  painted  chiefly  to  enhance  the  fame  of  St.  Dominic 
and  the  efficacy  of  the  Rosary.1  The  Virgin  is  seated 
on  the  clouds,  with  a  pensive,  but  somewhat  sentimental 
and  feebly  prettified  look.  The  Holy  Child  is  in  a  short 
blue  tunic.  His  right  hand  is  full  of  roses,  red  and  white, 
which  He  is  showering  down  to  earth  from  a  golden  vase 
supported  by  three  lovely  child-angels. 

There  is  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  a  Madonna  u'ith  St. 
Francis,  by  Correggio.  Correggio  painted  it  for  a  hundred 
ducats  when  he  was  a  mere  youth,  but  it  has  all  his  charm 
of  manner.2  The  Madonna's  throne  is  under  an  open 
portico.  A  wreath  of  ten  sweet  angel-faces  form  a  sort 
of  living  nimbus  above  her  head,  and  a  little  below  them 
are  two  naked  putti  of  infinite  gracefulness,  with  folded 
hands.  On  her  left  are  St.  John  the  Baptist  and  St. 
Catherine,  —  the  former  pointing  to  the  Christ ;  the  latter, 

1  On  one  side  a  nimbus  of  angels  and  cherubs  weep  over  the  instru- 
ments of  the  Passion,  —  the  cross,  the  cup,  the  scourge,  the  crown  of 
thorns.     On  the  other,  angels  and  cherubs  exult  over  the  emblems  of  tri- 
umph, —  crowns,  lilies,  the  Gospel,  the  Ascension,  the  Gloria  in  Ex<:<  />>'<. 
At  the  feet  of  the  Virgin  and  Child  kneels  St.  Dominic,  looking  earth- 
wards ;  the  rosary,  of  which  he  was  the  inventor,  is  in  his  hand.     He  is 
pointing  to  the  Virgin,  as  though  to  shew  the  acceptable  method  of  her 
worship.     Below  is  all  the  tumult  and  misery  of  earth,  but  all  the  suf- 
ferers rely  on  the  rosaries  which  they  hold.    Two  lovely  children  play 
with  a  rosary.     A  sick  man  is  outstretched  on  a  mat,  his  wife  embracing 
him,  and  both  intercede  with  the  rosary.     Maidens  attacked  by  furious 
armed  men  cling  to  their  rosaries,  and  the  saints  at  the  right  also  hold 
them  in  their  hands.     That  Domenchino  delighted  in  these  scenes  of  vio- 
lent contrast  is  shewn  by  the  somewhat  horrible  martyrdom  of  St.  Agnes, 
which  hangs  opposite  to  the  picture  which  Guido  is  said  strangely  to  have 
valued  above  the  work  of   Raphael.     It  is  also  shewn  by  the  almost 
brutal  martyrdom  of  St.  Peter  Martyr  in  the  same  gallery.     He  who 
could  paint  such  scenes  might  produce  glorious  pictures,  but  hardly,  in 
the  best  sense,  sacred  ones. 

2  Ruskin,  On  the  Old  Road,  I.  81. 


MADONNA  OF  THE  ROSARY. 

From  the  Picture  in  the  Gallery  of  Bologna. 


Domenichino. 


ENTHROXED  MADOXXAS.  209 

with  her  face  upraised  in  ecstasy,  holding  a  sword  and 
palm  branch,  and  with  a  crown  at  her  feet.  On  her  right 
is  the  half-kneeling  St.  Francis,  and  behind  him  St. 
Anthony  of  Padua,  with  his  lily  and  his  book.  The  Virgin 
and  the  Child  both  bend  in  blessing  towards  St.  Francis. 
Above  the  pedestal  of  the  splendid  throne,  two  naked 
children  lean  on  a  circular  picture  of  Moses  holding  in  his 
hand  the  two  tables  of  stone,  and  on  the  lowest  step  in  red 
outline  are  sketches  of  the  story  of  Adarn. 

Much  more  ambitious  and  perfect  in  execution,  yet  less 
pleasing,  is  the  famous  Madonna  del  San  G-irolamo  in  the 
Gallery  of  Parma.  It  is  called  from  the  splendid  St. 
Jerome  which  stands  at  one  side.  The  Virgin  is  "  inex- 
pressibly lovely  "  ;  not  so  the  Child  Christ,  though  nothing 
can  be  more  tender  than  His  attitude.  With  one  hand  He 
is  beckoning  to  the  putto,  who  has  the  vase  of  the  Mag- 
dalene, and  with  the  other  He  plays  tenderly  with  her  long 
hair.  St.  Jerome,  both  from  his  connexion  with  the  Vul- 
gate, and  from  the  picturesqueness  of  his  legend,  is,  with 
St.  Francis,  the  saint  most  frequently  represented  in  these 
ideals  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church. 

Among  other  enthroned  Madonnas,  we  may  mention,  in 
passing,  that  by  Francia  at  Bologna.  Every  work  of  that 
fine  painter  deserves  loving  study.  One  enchanting  fea- 
ture of  the  picture  is  a  little  angel  on  the  step  of  the 
throne,  "  upon  whose  cheek  the  fair  flush  opens  until  we 
think  that  it  comes  and  fades,  and  returns  as  his  voice  and 
his  harping  are  louder  or  lower,  and  the  silver  light  rises 
upon  wave  after  wave  of  his  lifted  hair." 


EX   VOTO   PICTURES. 

Not  a  few  of  the  noblest  pictures  of  the  Madonna  and 
Child  were  painted  as  ex  voto  pictures  for  special  donors. 
Among  these  we  may  make  a  special  mention  of  five : 
Holbein's  Madonna  of  the  Burgomaster  Meyer;  Moretto's 


210  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Roncaglia  Madonna ;  Giovanni  Bellini's  Madonna  in  San 
Pietro  Martire  at  Murano ;  Titian's  Pesaro  Madonna ;  and 
Paul  Veronese's  Cucigna  family  at  Dresden. 

Since  1871  it  has  been  generally  admitted  that  the 
Madonna  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  is  a  copy  of  the  original 
by  Holbein  in  Darmstadt ;  but  it  is  a  copy  of  unsurpassed 
merit,  and  is  in  some  respects  more  valuable  than  the 
original,  because  it  has  not  been  "restored."  The  Burgo- 
master Meyer,  struck  by  the  spread  of  Reformation  opin- 
ions in  Basle,  wished  to  shew  his  adherence  to  the  Romish 
faith.  As  his  picture  could  not,  at  that  stormy  period,  be 
placed  in  a  church,  it  probably  served  as  an  altarpiece  for 
his  family  chapel.  It  was  painted  in  1526,  a  little  before 
Holbein's  journey  to  England.  The  Madonna  is  here  re- 
presented as  the  Protectress  of  the  donor's  family,  of  which 
the  members  worship  under  the  shadow  of  her  robe,  and 
under  the  benediction  of  the  Holy  Child.  She  wears  a 
crown  of  gold,  and  her  long  fair  hair  streams  over  her 
shoulders.  Her  face  is  full  of  a  lofty  and  gentle  sadness. 
On  the  right  kneels  the  father  of  the  family,  earnestly 
gazing  up  at  the  divine  vision,  and  by  him  his  two  sons,  a 
handsome  youth  and  a  lovely  naked  child.  On  the  spec- 
tator's right  kneel  Magdalena  Ben,  the  Burgomaster's  first 
wife,  who  died  in  1511,  and  his  second  wife,  Dorothea 
Kannegiesen,  with  her  daughter  Anna.  It  is  undoubtedly 
a  curious  circumstance  that  the  Holy  Child  is  stretching 
out  His  left  arm  to  bless  and  overshadow  the  kneeling 
family,  and  that  the  little  naked  child-darling  of  the  family 
is  also  looking  at  his  own  outstretched  left  arm.  Further, 
the  little  human  child  is  full  of  healthy  life  and  vigour, 
while  the  Divine  Child  looks  weak  and  ill.  All  sorts  of 
romances  have  been  suggested  for  the  interpretation  of 
these  circumstances,  one  of  which  is  the  theory  of  "  dupli- 
cate identity."  It  has  been  supposed  that  the  child  in  the 
Virgin's  arms  is  not  the  Child  Jesus,  but  the  sick  child  of 
the  Burgomaster,  whom  she  has  lifted  up  and  healed  of 
some  defect  or  disease  in  the  arm,  while  the  lower  part 


METER  Ex  VOTO  MADONNA. 
From  the  Picture  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 


Holbein. 


EX  VOTO   MADONNAS.  211 

of  the  picture  represents  him  restored  to  health.  Another 
favourite  theory  is  that  she  has  taken  the  sick  child  in  her 
arms  to  heal,  and  has  put  down  the  Child  Christ  to  stand 
for  the  moment  in  the  family  group.1  But  there  does  not 
seem  to  be  the  least  ground  of  evidence  for  this  conjecture, 
and  the  simplest  interpretation  of  the  picture  is  probably 
the  best.  The  positions  of  the  children  are  in  all  proba- 
bility as  purely  pictorial  as  the  rumple  on  the  rich  Persian 
carpet  on  which  the  family  are  kneeling. 

The  Pesaro  Madonna,  by  Titian,  is  in  the  Church  of  the 
Frari  at  Venice.  This  undeniably  splendid  work  was 
finished  in  1536.  The  captive  Turk  is  a  reference  to  a 
recent  victory  over  the  Turks.  St.  Peter  sits  on  the  step 
of  the  Madonna's  throne,  and  St.  Francis  and  St.  Anthony 
stand  beside  it.  The  Holy  Child  turns  His  gaze  towards 
the  two  saints  and  the  Pesari,  for  whom  they  are  pleading, 
while  the  Madonna  looks  down  at  the  Admiral  Pesaro, 
who  is  carrying  a  mighty  flag.  Above,  on  the  clouds,  be- 
tween the  huge  pillars,  are  two  Angioletti  with  the  cross. 
Burckhardt  calls  this  "a  work  of  quite  unfathomable 
beauty,  by  means  of  which  Titian  fixed  a  true  conception 
of  subjects  of  this  kind  for  all  future  time,  according  to 

1  See  Ruskin,  On  the  Old  Eoad,  I.  235.  The  suggestion  was  first  made 
by  Louis  Tieck.  M.  Blanc  says:  "Ily  a  peut-etre,  dans  cet  ^change 
quelque  chose  de  fort  risquS  et  de  fort  tgmgraire  en  point  du  vue  du 
dogme  ;  mais  a  coup  sur  si  1'on  ne  sort  pas  de  Part  c'est  un  idee  heureuse 
et  touchante,  et  qui  peint  en  traits  na'ifs  la  franchise  et  la  cordialite  des 
Allemands."  Sir  Frederic  Leighton  says:  "In  Holbein  we  have  a  man 
not  prone  to  theorize,  not  steeped  in  speculation,  a  dreamer  of  no  dreams  ; 
without  passion,  but  full  of  joyous  fancies,  he  looked  out  with  serene 
eyes  upon  the  world  around  him  ;  accepting  Nature  without  preoccupa- 
tion or  afterthought,  but  with  a  keen  sense  of  all  her  subtle  beauties, 
loving  her  simply  and  for  herself.  As  a  draughtsman,  he  displayed  a 
flow,  a  fulness  of  form,  and  an  almost  classic  restraint,  which  are  want- 
ing in  the  work  of  Diirer,  and  are,  indeed,  not  found  elsewhere  in  Ger- 
man art.  As  a  colourist,  he  had  a  keen  sense  of  the  value  of  tone 
relations,  a  sense  in  which  Diirer  again  was  lacking  ;  not  so  Teutonic  in 
every  way  as  the  Nuremberg  master,  he  formed  a  link  between  the  Italian 
and  the  German  races.  A  less  powerful  personality  than  Diirer,  he  was 
a  far  superior  painter." 


212  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

pictorial  laws  of  harmony  in  colour,  grouping,  and  free 
aerial  perspective." 

Yet  few,  I  think,  could  call  this  in  any  sense  so  win- 
ning a  picture,  or  so  calculated  to  inspire  a  spirit  of  genuine 
devotion,  as  the  wonderful  Madonna  with  the  Doge  Bar- 
foerigo  by  Giovanni  Bellini  in  San  Pietro  Martire  of 
Murano,  painted  in  1488.  "  Who  that  has  visited  Murano," 
say  Messrs.  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  "and  entered  the 
Church  of  San  Pietro  Martire,  does  not  know  that  beauti- 
ful canvas  on  which  the  Prince  of  Venice  kneels  in  all  the 
pomp  of  orange  and  ermine,  yet  with  all  the  humility  of  a 
sinner  before  the  Virgin?  Who  has  not  been  delighted 
by  the  lovely  calm  of  that  Virgin,  with  the  boy  on  her 
knee  imparting  the  benediction  to  the  sound  of  viol  and 
guitar?  What  charm  dwells  in  those  two  children,  or  that 
wonderful  row  of  cherubs'  heads  that  hang  on  cloudlets 
about  the  purple  curtains;  what  attractiveness  is  in  the 
vegetation  of  the  landscape  and  its  beds  of  weeds  and 
flowers,  in  which  the  crane,  the  peacock,  and  the  partridge 
alike  elect  to  congregate !  How  noble  the  proportions  of 
the  saints,  how  grand  and  real  the  portrait  of  the  Doge ! 
Large  contrasts  of  light  and  shade  are  united  with  bright 
and  blended  tone.  The  atmosphere  is  playing  round  these 
people  and  helping  them  to  live  and  move  before  us,  and 
Nature  is  ennobled  by  thought  and  skill." 1 

A  singularly  impressive  picture  is  also  the  Madonna  of 
the  Roncaglia  family  in  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  dei 
Miracoli  in  Brescia.  It  bears  the  date  1539.  St.  Nicholas 
of  Bari  is  presenting  two  noble  boys  —  orphans  of  the 
Roncaglia  family  —  to  the  Virgin  and  Child.  St.  Nicholas 
was  the  protector  and  patron-saint  of  school-boys.  The 
saint  is  clothed  in  a  richly  embroidered  cope  of  crimson,  of 
which  the  lining  is  woven  with  green  leaves.  He  is  an  old 
bald  man  with  white  beard  and  rugged  features,  which  wear 

1  History  of  Painting  in  Northern  Italy,  I.  169.  We  may  just  men- 
tion Tintoret's  Madonna  with  the  Camerlenghi.  See  Stones  of  Venice, 
III.  306. 


EX   VOTO   MADONNAS. 


213 


an  expression  of  the  tenderest  solicitude  as  he  gazes  up- 
wards to  plead  for  his  orphan  charge.     In  his  left  hand, 


Roncaglia  Madonna.     (Moretto.) 


which  is  gloved  and  ringed,  he   holds  his  pastoral  staff. 
His  right  hand  passes  round  the  shoulder  of  a  splendid 


214  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

little  boy  with  crisp  golden  curls,  dressed  in  a  green  tunic 
with  slashed  sleeves,  who  holds  a  book  under  his  arm,  and 
carries  the  three  golden  balls  which  are  the  Bishop's 
emblem.  This  boy  is  looking  up  towards  the  Virgin  with 
rapturous  confidence.  The  other  boy,  his  elder  brother, 
is  richly  dressed  in  darker  green,  and  his  shoes  are  of  green 
velvet.  His  fair  hair  is  cut  straight  across  his  forehead. 
He  carries  the  Bishop's  mitre  and  is  looking  out  of  the 
picture  towards  the  spectator,  as  though  he  had  turned 
away  his  face  in  awe.  His  expression  is  most  natural,  and 
his  mouth  is  slightly  open.  Two  little  acolytes  stand 
behind  St.  Nicholas  in  attitudes  of  deep  devotion.  The 
Virgin  is  seated  on  the  pedestal  of  a  side-altar.  She  is 
a  woman  of  the  noblest  and  purest  beauty,  clad  in  rich 
brocade.  Her  golden  hair  streams  down  over  a  floating 
veil  of  gauze.  A  mantle  woven  with  gold  is  worn  over  her 
red  dress.  She  points  to  the  two  boys,  but  the  Holy  Child, 
who  holds  a  pear  in  His  left  hand,  is  looking  not  at  the 
boys,  but  at  her,  and  has  laid  His  little  right  hand  tenderly 
upon  her  cheek.  He  is  clad  in  white.  In  front  is  a  hang- 
ing of  black  velvet  fringed  with  gold.  The  arched  recess 
behind  has  a  golden  vaulting,  and  from  over  the  arch  looks 
down  a  cherub's  head  in  grisaille.  A  pink  is  growing  out 
of  the  summit  of  the  side  column.  This  singularly  charm- 
ing picture  raises  Moretto  almost  to  the  greatness  of  Titian 
in  artistic  power,  as  he  always  exceeds  Titian  in  sincerity 
of  feeling. 

Another  votive  picture  by  Moretto  at  Brescia  represents 
a  Madonna  enthroned  among  cherubs  in  a  remarkable  sky 
of  white  and  gold.  Below,  to  the  right,  stands  a  fine  St. 
Francis,  and  to  the  left  the  Angel  Gabriel  presents  the 
aged  donor,  who  is  dressed  in  a  superb  robe  of  black  velvet 
and  ermine. 

Paolo  Veronese's  picture  of  the  Cucigna  family  is  painted 
with  a  sincerity  and  simplicity  of  faith  and  unreserve 
which  would  be  in  these  days  impossible,  but  which  has  an 
immense  charm.  Veronese  wished  the  family  to  be  painted 


EX   VOTO   MADOXXAS.  215 

as  being  presented  to  the  Madonna  and  Child.1     A  pillar 
of  pavonazzetto  divides  the  two  portions  of  the  picture. 
To  the  left,  as  you  stand  facing  it,  is  the  Virgin  enthroned 
with  the  Child  Jesus,  a  most  noble  child,  with  His  arms 
outspread  to  invite  and  bless.     On  one  side  of  the  throne 
a  lovely  angel  is  seated.     A  little  more  in  front  is  St. 
Jerome,  with  his  white  beard  streaming  over  his  breast; 
and  on  the  other  side  St.  John  the  Baptist  with  his  lamb. 
The  angel  and  these  saints  are  all  holding  out  their  hands 
to  point  to,  to  plead  for,  or  to  invite  the  whole  family.    The 
father  himself  leans  forward  from  behind  the  pillar,  by  the 
side  of  which  stands  a  sweet  little  boy,  his  grandson,  dressed 
like   his  little    brother,  in  black  and  white.     Behind  the 
little  boy  is  his  mother,  a  noble  Venetian  lady  in  a  crimson 
dress,  with  whom  are  kneeling  her  married  daughter  with 
her  husband  and  their  boy  and  girl,  —  the  boy  especially 
wears  a  look  of  intense  devotion.     Behind  these  are  Faith, 
in  a  robe  of  dazzling  white,  holding  in  her  hand  the  golden 
chalice  of  the  grapes  of  God,  and  with  her  Hope  in  a  robe 
of  blue,  and  Charity  in  crimson.     The  three  divine  virtues 
are  leaning  over  and  helping  another  group.     A  man  in 
the  prime  of  life,  perhaps  a  nephew,  seems  to  be  too  horror- 
stricken  and  remorseful  to  advance  any  farther  than  the 
spot  at  which  he  has  fallen  on  his  knees.     But  Charity, 
like  a  helpful  servant  of  all  work,  as  Mr.  Ruskin  says,  is 
holding  him  with  her  bare  white  arms.     One  thoughtful 
boy,  under  the  shelter  of  Hope,  is  turning  towards  his 
father,  grasping  with  one   hand  the  hem  of    the  robe  of 
Charity.     Another  fine  young  lad  is  close  behind,  his  face 
full  of  cheerfulness ;  and  still  further  behind  is  a  nurse- 
maid with  the  baby  in  her  arms.     The  only  member  of  the 
family  entirely  unaffected  by  the  solemnity  of  the  scene  is 

1  It  used  to  be  described  as  a  picture  of  Veronese's  own  family.  (So 
Ruskin.)  Morelli  calls  it  a  picture  of  the  Cocina  family,  and  says  that 
a  sketch  for  it  is  in  the  Uffizi  collection  of  drawings  at  Florence,  under 
the  name  of  Titian.  (Photographed  by  Philippot,  No.  415.)  The  name 
is  spelt  Cuccina  in  the  official  catalogue  of  the  National  Gallery,  p.  68. 


216  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

a  curly-haired  Venetian  dog,  who,  displeased  at  not  being 
the  centre  of  notice,  has  fairly  turned  his  back  on  the 
Virgin,  and  is  looking  in  the  opposite  direction,  much  to 
the  scandal  of  a  sweet  little  fair-haired  boy,  who  has  turned 
round  to  catch  hold  of  the  dog,  and  perhaps  to  recall  him 
to  some  sense  of  his  duty  and  the  proprieties  of  the  occa- 
sion. Even  in  such  a  scene  and  amid  such  incidents,  the 
frank,  natural  mirthfulness  of  Veronese  flashes  out  with 
charming  simplicity.1  But  it  is  impossible  to  express  the 
genial  piety  and  virile  faith  which  speak  throughout  the 
whole  picture.  The  separate  faces  are  most  beautiful  or 
manly,  —  fine  types  of  Venetian  manhood  and  womanhood. 
Young  and  old  are  clothed  in  dresses  which  are  rich  and 
graceful ;  but  the  manifold  accessories  are  all  subordi- 
nated to  the  central  conception,  and  the  picture  becomes  "  a 
joy  for  ever,"  not  only  as  a  thing  of  beauty,  but  also  as 
the  outcome  of  a  spirit  genuinely  religious,  though  not 
untouched  with  mundane  elements.  Are  we  altogether 
the  gainers  from  the  circumstance  that,  in  these  days,  the 
painting  of  a  family  group  so  engaged  would  be  wholly 
impossible,  and  that  there  is  not  more  than  one  painter 
who  either  would  undertake  or  could  possibly  achieve  it  ? 

1  Morelli  (Italian  Masters  in  German  Galleries,  trans.  Kichter,  p.  197) 
calls  Veronese  "the  bright,  and  though  not  grand,  yet  always  dignified 
Paolo,  that  lovable  comedian,  somewhat  Spanish  in  his  love  of  show,  yet 
never  ignoble." 


BOOK  V. 

THE  BIETH   AT  BETHLEHEM. 


"Sternum  Lumen,  Immensum  Numen, 
Paucorum  vinculis  stringitur ; 
In  vili  caula,  exclusus  aula, 
Rex  coeli  bestiis  cingitur."  — MAUBUEX. 

"Die  hochste  Liebe  wie  die  hochste  Kunst  ist  Andacht."  —  HERDER. 

"  Religion  answered  to  an  ever-living  need.  The  Bible  was  no  longer  a 
mere  document  wherewith  to  justify  Christian  dogmas.  It  was  rather  a 
series  of  parables  and  symbols,  pointing  at  all  times  to  the  path  that  led 
to  a  finer  and  nobler  life.  Christ,  the  Apostles,  the  Patriarchs,  and 
Prophets  were  the  embodiment  of  living  principles  and  of  living  ideals. 
Tintoretto  felt  this  so  vividly  that  he  could  not  think  of  them  otherwise 
than  as  people  of  his  own  kind,  living  under  conditions  easily  intelligible 
to  himself  and  to  his  fellowmen.  Indeed,  the  more  intelligible  and  the 
more  familiar  the  look,  garb,  and  surroundings  of  biblical  and  saintly 
personages,  the  more  would  they  drive  home  the  privileges  and  ideas  they 
incarnated.  So  Tintoretto  did  not  hesitate  to  turn  every  biblical  episode 
into  a  picture  of  what  the  scene  would  look  like  had  it  taken  place  under 
his  own  eyes,  not  to  tinge  it  with  his  own  mood."  —  BERENSON,  Venetian 
Painters,  p.  55. 


I. 

THE  ANNUNCIATION. 

"  "Wie  jeder  Gedanke  jede  Seele  Melodie  1st,  so  soil  der  Menschengeist 
durch  sein  Allumfassen,  Harinonie  werden  Poesie  Gottes."  —  BETTINA. 

IN  entering  on  the  attempts  to  delineate  actual  scenes 
in  the  Gospel  History,  we  reach  those  later  phases  in  the 
history  of  religious  Art,  in  which  subjects  at  first  handled 
symbolically,  and  next  conventionally,  tend  to  become 
more  and  more  pictorial,  till  they  end  in  being  absolutely 
realistic. 

1.  The  earliest  known  representation  of  the  Annunci- 
ation—  if  indeed  it  be  one  —  is   in   the  cemetery  of    St. 
Priscilla.     It  is  given  by  Bosio  (I.  541),  and  simply  repre- 
sents a  youthful  female  seated  on  a  chair,  before  whom  a 
youth  bows  in  deep  reverence.1 

2.  Other  early  pictures  are  given  by  Fleury,  from  a 
Syriac  Bible,  from  the  cemetery  of  SS.  Nereus  and  Achilles, 
from  the  Bible  of  the  Armenians,  and  from  other  ancient 
sources.2     It  is  noticeable   that  at  first  the  angel  is  un- 
winged.     He  first  appears  with  wings  in  a  diptych  now  in 
the  Cathedral  of  Milan.     Sometimes  the  Virgin  is  repre- 
sented as  drawing  water  in  an  amphora  from  the  fountain 
of  Nazareth,  in  accordance  with  a  passage  in  the  apocryphal 
Gospel  of  St.  James.3     The  wand  in  the  angel's  hand  is  a 
symbol  of  divine  authority.     The  Virgin  often  carries  a 

1  Z,' Evangile,  I.,  PI.  iii. 

2  It  is  also  given  in  Fleury,  I.,  PI.  vii.  ;  and  in  Aringhi,  II.  297. 

3  See  a  sketch  in  Martigny,  p.  42. 

219 


220 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


distaff,  as  in  the  accompanying  woodcut,  from  a  sarcoph- 
agus at  Ravenna. 

3.    The  earliest  Annunciation  in  the  National  Gallery  is 
by  Duccio,  of  whom  we  should  certainly  have  heard  more 

but  for  the  Florentine  par- 
tialities of  Vasari.  The 
subject  is  treated  with  all 
the  direct  quietness  which 
marks  the  work  of  the 
earliest  artists.  Upon  a 
gold  background  is  painted 
a  simple  arcade,  under 
which  the  Virgin  is  sitting. 
She  has  been  reading  a 

book  of  devotion,  but  looks  up  towards  the  angel,  who  is 
approaching  her  with  a  gesture  of  salutation.  The  lines 
of  gold  on  the  robes  of  the  angel  and  of  the  Virgin  were 
the  old  conventional  method  of  symbolizing  light,  a 
method  which  Duccio  was  the  last  to  use.  We  here  see 
the  work  of  a  painter  of  real  genius,  full  of  devout  rever- 
ence for  the  ancient  traditions  from  which  he  has  only 
just  begun  to  emancipate  himself.  The  treatment  is  to 
a  great  extent  traditional,  and  for  a  long  period  among 
the  Giotteschi  it  only  varies  in  minor  details.  There  is, 
for  instance,  in  San  Marco,  an  Annunciation  which  Vasari 
attributes  to  Pietro  Cavallini  (b.  1257).  The  Virgin  sits 
on  a  marble  floor;  behind  her  is  a  hanging,  woven  with 
stars.  Rays  of  light  on  which  floats  a  dove  are  streaming 
towards  her  heart,  to  which  she  presses  her  left  hand. 
Her  right  hand  rests  on  an  open  book.  On  the  wall  are 
the  words  Ecce  Ancilla  Domini.  In  front  of  her  is  a  vase 
of  flowers  in  which  the  buds  are  three-pointed.  In  front 
of  her,  his  arms  folded  across  his  breast,  kneels  the  angel.1 
In  the  earlier  pictures,  such  as  those  of  Guido  of  Siena  and 
Cimabue,  it  is  the  Virgin,  not  the  angel,  who  bows  and 
trembles. 

1  Rosini,  I.  198  ;  Gruyer,  II.  46. 


THE   ANNUNCIATION. 


221 


4.  Angelico's  Annunciations  mark  no  special  advance, 
except  in  their  heavenliness.  His  best  is  the  one  in  the 
convent  of  San  Marco.  The  beautiful  Gabriel  bends 
before  the  Virgin,  with  his  arms  crossed  on  his  breast,  and 


Annunciation.    (Angelico.) 

the  painter  may  have  had  in  his  mind  the  lovely  passage 
of  Dante,  which  is  in  itself  a  picture  of  the  Annunciation 
in  clear  and  glowing  verse  :  — 

"  The  Angel  who  to  earth  the  news  made  known 
Of  peace  that  men  had  wept  for  many  a  year, 


222  THE  LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

And  heaven  long  barred  and  closed  had  open  thrown, 
Before  us  stood  in  sculptured  form  so  clear, 

In  attitude  that  sweetest  thought  betrayed, 

That  he  no  speechless  image  did  appear. 
One  could  have  sworn  that  he  his  Ave  said, 

For  there  too,  in  clear-imaged  form,  was  she 

Who  turned  the  key  that  high  love  open  laid, 
And  on  her  mien  is  written,  one  might  see 

Ecce  Ancilla  Dei  full  as  plain 

As  figures  that  on  wax  imprinted  be."1 

The  angel  is  perhaps  less  majestic  than  is  usual  with 
this  painter,  but  the  Virgin  is  only  the  more  to  be  wor- 
shipped, because  here,  for  once,  she  is  set  before  us  in  the 
verity  of  life.  "  No  gorgeous  robe  is  upon  her,  no  lifted 
throne  set  for  her ;  the  golden  border  gleams  faintly  on  the 
dark  blue  dress ;  the  seat  is  drawn  into  the  shadow  of  a 
lowly  loggia.  The  face  is  of  no  strange  far-sought  loveli- 
ness ;  the  features  might  even  be  thought  hard,  for  they 
are  worn  with  watching,  and  severe,  though  innocent. 
She  stoops  forward  with  her  arms  folded  on  her  bosom ; 
no  casting  down  of  eye,  nor  shrinking  of  the  frame  in  fear ; 
she  is  too  earnest,  too  self-forgetful  for  either ;  wonder  and 
inquiry  are  there,  but  chastened  and  free  from  doubt ; 
meekness,  yet  mingled  with  a  patient  majesty ;  peace,  yet 
sorrowfully  sealed,  as  if  the  promise  of  the  angel  were 
already  underwritten  by  the  prophecy  of  Simeon.  They 
who  pass  and  repass  in  the  twilight  of  that  solemn  corri- 
dor, need  not  the  adjuration  inscribed  beneath,  — 

'  Virginis  intactae  cum  veneris  ante  figuram 
Praetereundo  cave  ne  sileatur  Ave.' " 

There  is  another  Annunciation  by  Fra  Angelico  on  the 
upper  floor  of  San  Marco,  of  which  Taine  remarks  :  "  Such 
immaculate  modesty,  such  virginal  candour !  By  her  side 
Raphael's  Virgins  are  merely  vigorous  peasant  girls." 

5.  An  Annunciation  of  LORENZO  VENETO,  painted  in 
1358,  differs  from  its  predecessors  in  representing  the 

1  Purgatano,  X.  35-46. 


THE   AXXUXCIATIOX.  223 

Virgin  as  crowned,  and  clad  in  richly  embroidered  robes. 
The  dove  is  descending  over  her  decorated  aureole.  The 
angel  who  uplifts  his  hand  in  benediction  is  much  smaller 
in  size. 1 

6.  The  next  Annunciation  which  we  will  notice  is  that 
by  Fra  Filippo  Lippi  (d.  1469).  It  shews  the  immense 
advance  which  Art  had  made  in  the  course  of  a  century. 
The  religious  feeling  is  still  predominant,  but  it  is  not 
exclusive.  Lippi  has  time  to  think,  and  to  make  the  spec- 
tator think,  of  other  things  outside  the  central  fact  which 
he  illustrates.  The  general  arrangement  is  traditional, 
but  it  has  begun  to  admit  many  beautiful  and  some  entirely 
mundane  accessories.  Among  these,  the  most  prominent 
is  on  the  stand  of  the  vase  in  which  is  growing  the  splendid 
lily  in  full  bloom,  on  the  Virgin's  left.  The  device  is  a 
ring  in  which  are  tied  three  feathers.  This  was  the  badge 
of  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  the  patron  of  the  gifted  monk.  No 
doubt  Brother  Lippi  owed  much  to  the  great  Medici ;  but 
Margaritone  or  Duccio  would  have  shrunk  with  something 
like  horror  from  this  intrusion  of  pride  and  modernism. 
The  Virgin  is  no  longer  reading,  but  has  cast  down  her 
eyes  after  her  first  upward  glance.  The  lovely  folds  of 
her  robe  and  mantle  fall  round  her  with  perfect  symmetry, 
and  float  over  the  marble  floor  of  her  dainty  chamber. 
Through  an  opening  on  her  right  come  the  fingers  of  a 
hand,  which  sends  rays  of  light  towards  her.  The  Holy 
Dove,  enclosed  in  a  nimbus,  is  winging  its  way  to  her 
heart.  In  the  garden  in  front  of  her,  among  the  grass  and 
flowers,  kneels  the  angelic  messenger  with  a  gesture  of 
reverence.  In  one  hand  is  a  branch  of  lilies ;  with  the 
other  he  holds  together  the  folds  of  his  mantle.  The 
wings  which  are  outspread  from  his  shoulders,  though 
wholly  impossible  for  purposes  of  flight,  are  truly  splendid 
for  purposes  of  ornament,  being  full  of  eyes  like  those  of 
Ezekiel's  Cherubim.  They  are  meant  for  peacocks'  eyes, 
as  the  recognized  symbol  of  incorruptibility.  The  picture 

1  See  Rosini,  II.  86. 


224 


THE   LIFE    OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


abounds  in  lovely  details,  and  there  is  something  singu- 
larly fascinating  in  the  pure,  sweet  faces  both  of  Gabriel 
and  of  the  Virgin. 


:  A- 


Fra  Filippo  Lippi. 

7.  The  scene  is  depicted  with  ever-increasing  splendour 
as  years  pass  on.     Churches  like  the  Santissima  Annun- 
ziata  in  Florence  bear  witness  to  its  fascination  for  pious 
Christians.     As  is  so  often  the  case  in  Art,  the  central  fact 
is  gradually  lost  sight  of  amid  the  magnificent  accessories. 
The  humble  cottage  at  Nazareth  becomes  a  superb  palace, 
or  a  gorgeous  oratory,  and  the  village  maiden  is  clothed  in 
gold  and  gems.     The  intensity  of  the  religious  idea  dis- 
places the  deeper  meaning  of  the  lowly  reality. 

This  is  further  indicated  by  the  early  intrusion  of  other 
figures  into  the  Galilean  home.  Even  Angelico  places 
behind  his  Gabriel  a  Peter  Martyr ;  and  in  the  church  of 
the  Minerva  at  Rome,  Filippino  Lippi  makes  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas  a  witness  of  the  scene,  and  introduces  the  donor 
of  the  picture,  whom,  forgetful  of  the  angel's  presence,  the 
Virgin  blesses. 

8.  CARLO  CRIVELLI  was  born  about  1430,  more  than 
twenty  years  after  Lippi.     Like  Mantegna,  he  adhered  to 
tempera,  and  did  not  adopt  the  oil-painting  which  the  Van 
Eycks  had  introduced  into  Italy.     The  fact  that  his  works 
have  lost  none  of  their  brilliancy,  proves  that   tempera- 
painting  had  its  advantages.     Crivelli  is  a  very  fascinating 
painter.     Some  of  his  best  works  are  at  Ascoli,  where  he 


THE   ANNUNCIATION.  225 

spent  all  the  latter  years  of  his  life.  "  He  is  connected," 
says  Sir  F.  Burton,  "with  the  Schools  of  Padua  and 
Murano,  but  his  own  strong  individuality  gives  him  a 
unique  position  in  Italian  Art.  ...  In  his  works  may  be 
found,  expressed  in  quaint  combination,  morose  asceticism  ; 
passionate  and  demonstrative  grief,  verging  011  caricature  ; 
true  and  touching  pathos  ;  occasional  grandeur  of  concep- 
tion and  presentment ;  knightly  dignity ;  feminine  sweet- 
ness and  tenderness,  mingled  with  demure  and  far-fetched 
grace;  infantile  gravity  and  playfulness."1  He  enriched 
his  paintings  with  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  and  even 
with  imitation  jewels  in  high  relief.  Varied  marbles, 
oriental  carpets,  fruit  and  flowers,  in  canopies  and  festoons, 
or  scattered  singly  about,  enhance  the  richness  and  pomp 
of  the  whole  effect. 

Crivelli's  Annunciation  in  our  Gallery  (No.  739)  is  a 
noble  and  interesting  specimen  of  the  artist's  work.  Lippi's 
Annunciation,  though  it  lacks  some  of  the  simple  and  con- 
centrated sincerity  of  Duccio's,  is  still  an  Annunciation, 
in  spite  of  its  minor  details ;  but  Crivelli's  almost  ceases  to 
be  an  Annunciation  at  all,  in  the  gorgeous  elaborateness 
of  all  its  surroundings  and  incidents.  It  is  true  that  you 
see  the  Virgin  kneeling  at  her  prie-dieu  in  her  neat  cham- 
ber, with  a  book  before  her.  Conscious  of  a  divine  mes- 
sage, she  has  clasped  her  hands  across  her  breast.  If  you 
look  up  to  the  sky,  you  can  just  make  out  two  wreaths  of 
cherubs'  faces,  —  such  they  appear  to  be,  —  from  which  one 
ray  of  light,  streaming  down  through  an  architectural 
opening  in  the  cornice,  falls  on  the  Virgin's  head,  passing 
through  the  radiating  nimbus  of  the  dove  who  hovers  over 
her.  The  house  of  which  her  chamber  forms  a  part  is  a 

1  The  remarks  of  Messrs.  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle  on  Crivelli  are  quite 
just.  "On  the  whole,  a  striking,  original  genius,  unpleasant,  and  now 
and  then  grotesque,  but  never  without  strength,  and  always  in  earnest. 
He  will  carry  out  daintiness  with  great  consistency  in  the  air  of  a  head, 
the  expression  of  a  face,  the  motion  of  a  hand,  and  the  fine  texture  of  a 
cloth."  See  History  of  Painting  in  Northern  Italy,  I.  82-95. 

Q 


226  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

lustrous  Italian  palace,  enriched  with  elaborate  lintels 
and  capitals,  and  with  a  cornice  composed  of  fruit,  flowers, 
masks,  and  vases.  Above  this  cornice,  on  the  edge  of 
which  sits  a  superb  peacock,  is  an  open  loggia.  A  richly 
woven  piece  of  tapestry  hangs  over  its  balustrade,  on 
which  is  a  basket  of  flowers  and  a  shrub  in  an  earthenware 
pot.  A  bird-cage  hangs  above,  and  a  bird  is  seated  on  a 
pole.  The  window  of  the  Virgin's  chamber  has  an  iron 
grille,  behind  which  is  another  plant  in  a  vase.  The  scene 
outside  is  a  street.  Under  the  arch  at  the  end  of  it  are 
seen  various  figures  in  the  noble  and  flowing  costume  of 
the  fifteenth  century.  Opposite  are  some  stone  steps,  on 
the  top  of  which  three  grave  persons  are  conversing,  and  a 
sweet  little  girl,  with  her  back  to  them,  is  peeping  round 
the  parapet.  In  the  street  kneels  Gabriel  opposite  to  the 
Virgin,  but  with  the  wall  of  the  house  between  them,  as 
though  the  painter  meant  to  indicate  that  he  was  only 
present  to  the  spiritual  vision.  He  is  an  extremly  aesthetic 
and  delicate  angel.  In  his  left  hand,  in  a  most  affected 
attitude,  he  holds  a  lily  with  his  femininely  thin  fingers, 
while  he  uplifts  the  forefinger  of  his  equally  feminine 
right  hand.  His  carefully  arranged  tresses  are  bound 
with  a  ribband,  in  front  of  which,  beneath  his  nimbus, 
is  a  jewel  and  a  small  feather.  A  bird's  wing,  with  large 
pen-feathers,  is  outspread  behind  him.  Beside  him,  quite 
distracting  the  attention  of  the  spectator,  and  one  would 
suppose  of  the  dainty  angel  also,  kneels  St.  Emidius,  the 
patron  saint  of  Ascoli,  with  his  fresh  and  almost  boyish 
face.  He  wears  his  mitre  and  his  gold-embroidered  cope, 
which  is  clasped  with  a  large  and  splendid  brooch.  He 
uplifts  his  right  hand  in  admiration,  as  he  gazes  somewhat 
intrusively  into  the  angel's  face,  calling  his  attention  to 
the  model  of  his  city,  which  he  holds  in  his  left  hand.1 

1  "  Carlo  Crivelli  takes  rank  with  the  most  genuine  artists  of  all  times 
and  countries,  and  does  not  weary  even  when  '  great  masters '  grow 
tedious.  He  expresses  with  the  freedom  and  spirit  of  Japanese  design  a 
piety  as  wild  and  tender  as  Jacopo  da  Todi,  a  sweetness  and  emotion  as 


THE  ANNUNCIATION.  Carlo  Crivelli. 

From  tin-  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


THE  ANNUNCIATION.  227 

9.  Almost  every  painter  of  note  tried  his  hand  on  this 
entrancing  subject.     Paolo  Uccello,  Piero  dei'  Franceschi, 
Perugino,  Vittore  Pisano,  Cosimo  Roselli,  Botticelli,  Man- 
tegna,     Signorelli,  Francia,    Raphael,    and    many    more. 
Murillo  painted  it  at  least  nine  times.     In  the    Louvre 
picture  Fra  Bartolommeo  turns  the  subject  into  a  gathering 
of  saints.     Lorenzo  di  Credi  returns  to  the  purer  and  more 
simply  religious  conception.     Albertinelli,  Jacopo  Palma, 
and    Andrea    del    Sarto    aim   only   at    making   beautiful 
pictures,  as  do  Correggio,  Titian,  and  Pordenone.     Boni- 
fazio  surpasses  them  all  by  audaciously  placing  the  scene 
in  the   Piazza  of  St.  Mark,  so  that,  as  Gruyer  says,  we 
are  far  indeed  from  Nazareth,  — 

"  La  dove  Gabriello  aperse  Tali." 

10.  In  the  design  of  Michael  Angelo,  the  angel  becomes 
all  but  menacing,  and  the  head  of  the  Virgin  is  wrapped 
up  in  linen  as  though  she  were  a  Sibyl,  while  her  gesture 
is   almost   one   of    repudiation.     The  figure   has   all   the 
sculpturesque  violence  of  the  painter.     "  Rien  de  virginal, 
rien  de  jeune   dans  cette  femme  aux   formes  exagere'es. 
Entre  ces  deux  formes  je  cherche  le  grand  myst£re  de 
1'amour  divin ;  je  ne  trouve  que  1'effroi." 1 

11.  The  Annunciations  of  the  Venetian  School  —  nota- 
bly those  of  TIXTORET  and  PAOLO  VERONESE  —  are  no- 
ticeable for  the  rushing  impetuosity  of  the  angel  in  his 
gleaming  flight.      In  the  very  characteristic  Veronese  of 
the  Accademia,  he    comes  with   swift  flight,  which  has 
made  his  crimson  robes  stream  out  far  behind  him,  and 
the  Virgin  may  well  shrink  back  amazed  and  half  terrified 
at  so  lightning-winged  a  messenger  who  sweeps  into  her 

sincere  and  dainty  as  of  a  Virgin  and  Child  carved  in  wax  by  a  French 
craftsman  of  the  fourteenth  century.  The  mystic  beauty  of  Simone 
Martini,  the  agonized  compassion  of  the  young  Bellini,  are  embodied  by 
Crivelli  in  forms  and  hues  which  have  the  strength  of  line  and  the  me- 
tallic lustre  of  old  Satsuma."  —  Berenson,  Venetian  Painters,  p.  vi. 
1  Gruyer,  II.  50. 


228  THE    LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

presence,  bearing  the  lily  branch  before  him.  As  usual, 
Veronese  is  grandiose  and  dramatic.  He  pleases  himself 
with  splendid  architecture,  elaborate  balance,  large  per- 
spectives, and  fascinating  details.  A  crystal  vase,  with  a 
flower  in  it,  over  the  Virgin's  head,  is  painted  as  only  he 
could  paint  at  his  best. 

12.  TINTORET,  as  we  should  expect,  in  the    Scuola  di 
San  Rocco,  shews  far  deeper  thoughtfulness.1     His  angel, 
robed  in  white,  points  to  the  haloed  dove,  and  is  followed 
by  groups  of  descending  cherubs.     The  scene  is  a  carpen- 
ter's workshop,  and  the  line  of  light  on  the  edge  of  the 
carpenter's  square  leads  the  eye  to  the  white  corner-stone 
of  a  ruined  house,  which  is  typical  of  the  Jewish  Dispen- 
sation.    "  Not  in  meek  reception  of  the  adoring  messenger, 
but  startled  by  the  rush  of   his  horizontal  and  rattling 
wings,  the  Virgin  sits,  not  in  the  quiet  loggia,  nor  in  the 
green  pasture  of  the  restored  soul,  but  houseless,  under 
the  shelter  of  a  palace  vestibule,  ruined  and  abandoned, 
with  the  noise  of  the  axe  and  the  hammers  in  her  ears,  and 
the  tumult  of  a  city  round  about  her  desolation."  2 

13.  It  will  be  seen  that  long  before  the  days  of  the 
great  Venetian  painters,  Art  had  entirely  shaken  herself 
free  from  the  old  conventions,  and  had  also  learnt  to  yield 
to  other  impulses  and  to  aim  at  other  ends  than  the  simple 
illustration  of   a  sacred  event.     Such  freedom  was   not, 
however,  won  at  a  single  bound.     Originality  at  first  could 
only  find  scope  in  the  accessories  of  the  picture.     Timoteo 

1  In  the  older  Annunciations  the  Virgin  is  always  humble,  and  serene, 
and  without  a  shadow  of  fear.     "  It  was  reserved  for  the  painters  of  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  to  change  angelic  majesty  into  reck- 
less impetuosity,  and  maiden  meditation  into  panic  dread." 

2  "The  authority  of  Tintoret  over  movement  is  too  unlimited;   the 
descent  of  his  angels  is  the  swoop  of  a  whirlwind  or  the  fall  of  a  thunder- 
bolt ;  his  mortal  movements  are  oftener  impetuous  than  pathetic,  and 
majestic  more  than  melodious."  —  On  the  Old  Eoad,  Part  I.  25.      See 
Ruskin,  Modern  Painters,  II.  165  ;  Giotto,  p.  72.     "  What  is  it  but  light 
and  colour  and  the  star  procession  of  cherubs  that  imbue  the  realism 
of    Tintoret' s  Annunciation  with    music  that   thrills  us  through   and 
through  ?  "  — Berenson,  p.  54. 


THE  ANNUNCIATION.  229 

Viti  (in  1503)  found  this  to  his  cost.  In  the  Brera  there 
is  a  lovely  Annunciation  by  this  rare  master,  in  which, 
entirely  deviating  from  the  old  rules,  he  represents  the 
angel  in  the  sky  pointing  to  the  Infant  Christ,1  whose  head 
is  surrounded  by  a  cross,  and  who  is  Himself  descending 
from  the  clouds,  with  one  foot  resting  on  the  nimbus  round 
the  head  of  the  Holy  Dove.2  The  innovation  was  viewed 
with  extreme  disfavour  by  the  watchful  jealousy  of  the 
Church.  "  Doubts  were  raised,"  says  Mr.  Dennistoun,  "  as 
to  the  orthodoxy  of  thus  representing  the  Trinity,  and  an 
unfortunate  ruddy  tint,  suffused  over  the  plumage  of  the 
snowy  dove,  was  construed  into  a  stain  on  the  Immaculate 
Conception.  The  altarpiece  was  removed  to  undergo, 
along  with  its  author,  a  searching  investigation,  which 
resulted  in  its  restoration  as  an  object  of  devotion,  and  in 
his  escape  from  the  rigour  of  the  holy  office.3 

14.  ALBRECHT  DURER,  whose  originality  so  often  breaks 
out  amid  the   traditional  treatment  which  he  could  not 
wholly   escape,   "  introduces   a   most  unwonted   element. 
The  Devil,  in  the  form  of  a  hog,  contemplates  from  out- 
side, the  scene  that  takes  place  in  the  Virgin's  apartment."4 

15.  Let  us  now  pass  over  four  centuries  and  describe 
another  Annunciation  in  the  National  Gallery  (No.  1210). 
It  is  by  Dante  Rossetti,  one  of  the  few  modern  painters 
who  have  mainly  devoted  themselves  to  religious  subjects. 
It  is  called  Ecce  Ancilla  Domini,  and  is  in  its  whole  treat- 

1  This  part  of  the  motif  he  probably  borrowed  from  Francia.     Rosini, 
IV.  3. 

2  This  method  of  representing  the  Annunciation  was  perhaps  borrowed 
by  Viti  from  his  friend  Giovanni  Sanzio,  the  father  of  Raphael.     His 
Annunciation  also  is  in  the  Brera.     Above  the  head  of  the  kneeling 
angel,  "on  a  golden-coloured  disk  bordered  with  prismatic  colours,"  is 
seen  the  Father  with  a  globe  in  His  hand.     The  little  figure  of  the  Infant 
Christ,   bearing   a    cross,  is   running   down  from   heaven  towards  the 
Virgin.     "The  distant  landscape,  with  its  luminous  sky  crossed  by  con- 
ventional clouds,  is  strongly  suggestive  of  Raphael's  earlier  manner." 

3  Dennistoun,  Dukes  of  Urbino,  London,  1851. 

4  The  plate  is  No.  7  in  Durer's  Life  of  the  Virgin.     See  Mrs.  Heaton's 
Albrecht  Z>wrer,  p.  123. 


230  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

ment  absolutely  original.  When  we  consider  that  it  was 
painted  when  Rossetti  was  only  twenty-one,  it  gives 
astonishing  proofs  of  genius.  The  Angel  Gabriel  is  a 
splendid  youth,  with  no  wings,  but  with  a  nimbus  round 
his  golden  hair.  His  features  are  full  of  grave  and  manly 
nobleness.  He  is  clad  in  a  robe  of  pure  white,  from  the 
severe  and  simple  folds  of  which  the  arm  is  lifted  which 
holds  the  lily.  His  feet  are  upborne  by  light  primrose- 
coloured  flames.  The  Virgin,  with  red  hair,  and  a  face 
full  of  pained  and  awe-struck  resignation,  has  just  started 
from  sleep  on  her  pallet  bed.  She  has  been  wakened  by 
the  bright  vision,  and  is  casting  in  her  mind  "  what  man- 
ner of  salutation  this  should  be."  A  simple  blue  curtain 
hangs  behind  her  in  the  plain  room,  and  over  it  a  lamp  of 
the  most  ordinary  kind,  such  as  the  poor  would  use. 
Through  the  open  window  a  tree  is  visible  and  the  blue 
sky,  and  the  white  dove,  with  a  thin  golden  nimbus  round 
its  head,  comes  floating  in.  A  lovely  touch  of  colour  is 
given  by  the  strip  of  crimson  embroidery  beside  the  pallet, 
on  which  the  Virgin  has  been  embroidering  a  white  lily. 
No  one  can  look  at  the  picture  without  recognizing  the 
deep  religious  feeling  by  which  it  is  pervaded. 

"  She  woke  in  her  white  bed  and  had  no  fear 
At  all ;  yet  wept  till  sunshine,  and  felt  awed 
Because  the  fulness  of  the  time  was  come." 1 

16.  Another  remarkably  lovely  and  original  Annunci- 
ation of  our  own  day  is  by  Mr.  E.  Burne  Jones.  It  was 
exhibited  in  the  Grosvenor  Gallery  in  1879.  It  is  repro- 
duced in  the  Art  Journal  for  February,  1893,  and  I  bor- 
row the  description  of  it  by  Miss  Julia  Cartvvright.  "  The 
Virgin  receives  the  angelic  salutation  standing  in  the 

*  See  Ruskin,  On  the  Old  Road,  I.  312.  F.  Shields  (Cent.  Guild  Hobby 
Horse,  I.  150)  mentions  another  of  Rossetti's  water-colour  sketches,  in 
which  the  Virgin  is  washing  her  hands  in  a  clear  stream  studded  with 
water-lilies.  "The  angel  appears  amid  tall  white  lilies  on  the  bank,  and 
his  golden  wings  form  the  figure  of  a  cross  as  they  enfold  his  body." 


THE  ANNUNCIATION. 

From  the  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


THE   ANNUNCIATION. 


231 


white  porch  of  her  home  at  Nazareth.  On  the  archway 
behind  her  the  drama  of  the  '  Fall  and  Exile  from  Para- 
dise '  are  pictured  in  stone.  On  the  left,  a  bay  tree 
spreads  its  dark  green 
leaves  over  the  white 
wall,  and  high  among 
the  branches,  his  wings 
serenely  folded,  his 
pointed  feet  together, 
stands  the  angel  who 
brings  peace  and  good- 
will to  man.  Swiftly 
and  suddenly  he  has 
come  down  straight  from 
the  presence  of  God,  and 
now  he  stands  there,  not 
a  plume  or  curl  stirred  by 
his  rapid  flight  through 
space,  gazing  with  rev- 
erent delight  at  the  Holy 
Virgin.  The  look  on 
her  face  is  hard  to  de- 
scribe. It  is  not  fear, 
it  is  hardly  trouble,  it 
is  rather  the  awe  of  one 
who  has  suddenly  be- 
come conscious  of  a 
heavenly  message,  and 
who  ponders  in  her 
mind  the  meaning  of 
the  words  that  from 
henceforth  all  genera- 
tions shall  call  her  blessed.  The  whole  spirit  of  the  com- 
position, the  severe  beauty  of  line  and  form,  the  simple 
folds  of  Mary's  clinging  dress,  recall  the  best  days  of  early 
Italian  Art." 


The  Annunciation.     (Sir  E.  Burne  .lone?.") 
By  permission  of  the  artist. 


II. 

THE  NATIVITY. 

"  Puer  natus  in  Bethlehem, 
Unde  gaudet  Jerusalem. 
Hie  jacet  in  praesepio 
Qui  regnat  sine  termino. 
Cognovit  bos  et  asinus 
Quod  puer  erat  Dominus." 

—  PISTOR,  De  Nativ.  Dom. 

"  We  sate  among  the  stalls  at  Bethlehem  ; 
The  dumb  kine  from  their  fodder  turning  there, 
Softened  their  horned  faces 
To  almost  human  gazes 
Toward  the  newly-born. 
The  simple  shepherds  from  the  starlit  brooks 
Brought  visionary  looks, 
As  yet  in  their  astonied  hearing,  rung 
The  strange  sweet  angel-tongue  ; 
The  Magi  of  the  East  in  sandals  worn 
Knelt  reverent,  sweeping  round 
With  long  pale  beards,  their  gifts  upon  the  ground, 
The  incense,  myrrh  and  gold 
These  baby  hands  are  impotent  to  hold  ; 
So  let  all  earthlies  and  celestials  wait 
Upon  thy  royal  state  : 
Sleep,  O  my  kingly  one  ! " 

A   GROUP   OF   NATIVITIES   AND   ADORATION   OF   THE 
SHEPHERDS. 

"  Wild,  wild,  wild  and  wild, 
Howls  the  wind  and  swirls  the  snow, 
Where  to-night  o'er  little  Child 
Bends  a  maiden  low. 
Queis,  Puero  et  Virgini 
Exultant  omnes  Angeli. 
232 


THE   NATIVITY. 


233 


"  Gold,  gold,  gold  and  gold, 
Gleam  a  hundred  angels'  wings, 
Where  Mary  wraps  Him  fold  on  fold 
In  swaddling  bands  and  sings  : 
Queis  Puero  et  Virgini 
Exultant  omnes  Angeli." 

—  SELWTN  IMAGE. 

If  any  subject  be  specially  calculated  to  inspire  a  painter's 
powers,  it  is  the  Nativity.1  

The  appended  wood-cut,  from  a  pic- 
ture in  the  Catacombs,  gives  perhaps 
the  most  ancient  representation  of  the 
Nativity. 

The  central  conception  of  the  Gos- 
pels had  often  found  expression  in 
Christian  song,  and  although  the 
Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa  of  Jacopone  is 
now  better  known  than  the  Stabat 
Mater  Speciosa,  the  latter  was  as  popular  in  the  Middle 

1  There  is  an  excellent  article  in  the  Art  Magazine  for  December, 
1889,  on  "The  Nativity  as  depicted  in  the  National  Gallery,"  by  J.  E. 
Hodgson,  R.A.  He  points  out  that  the  year  1500  may  be  selected  as  a 
line  of  demarcation  in  Art.  "  Early  Christian  Art,  under  the  tutelage  of 
the  Church,  insisted  mainly  on  the  facts  of  the  Incarnation,  the  expiatory 
sacrifice  of  our  Lord,  and  the  mediatorial  power  of  the  blessed  Virgin. 
She  is  everywhere  :  stooping  in  adoration  over  her  infant  Son,  or  fainting 
in  agony,  or  enthroned  in  glory.  More  often  her  pictures  are  of  a  strictly 
mystical,  not  historical,  character ;  she  is  the  Mediatrix.  Here  she  is 
perfectly  calm,  at  least  in  the  earlier  pictures  ;  there  is  no  show  of  human 
affections.  What  the  best  men  tried  to  depict  was  an  unselfish  pride,  a 
consciousness  .  .  .  which  brought  no  glory  to  herself,  but  only  a  sense 
of  unutterable  gratitude  and  humility."  In  early  pictures  she  shews 
signs  of  the  pains  of  childbirth.  This  was  afterwards  regarded  as  unor- 
thodox. Mr.  Hodgson  proceeds  to  speak  of  (1)  Orcagna's  Nativity 
(N.  G.  573),  which  is  intended  only  to  be  a  Scripture  story,  made  visible 
to  those  who  could  not  read.  With  Giotto  began  a  more  marked  natu- 
ralism. (2)  The  Nativity  of  Piero  della  Francesca  (N.  G.  908)  shews  a 
symbolism  mixed  up  with  other  aims,  —  e.g.  the  sense  of  beauty,  — and 
to  a  certain  extent  weakened  by  them.  (3)  Sandro  Botticelli,  born  thirty 
years  later  (1455),  shews  a  still  further  change.  His  Nativity  (N.  G. 
1304)  is  a  magnificent  and  imaginative  picture,  which  strikes  the  imagi- 
nation by  its  pageantry,  and  the  senses  by  its  gorgeous  colouring.  In 


234  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Ages.  All  the  early  religious  painters  endeavoured 
to  express  in  colours  what  the  poet  had  painted  in 
words :  — 

"  Stabat  Mater  speciosa 
Juxta  faenum  gaudiosa 

Dum  jacebat  parvulus, 
Cujus  animam  gaudentem, 
Laetabundam  et  ferventem, 

Pertransivit  jubilus." 

The  general  treatment  varied  but  little.  We  find 
always  the  joyous  Mother;  the  grave,  silent,  aged  St. 
Joseph ;  the  shepherds,  the  hymning  angels.  The  ox  and 
the  ass  are  almost  always  introduced,  in  accordance  with 
the  Septuagint  rendering  of  the  well-known  verse  of 
Habakkuk  (III.  2),  ev  peam  Bvo  £a>cov  yvwo-Orjarj.  (Vetus 
Itala;  in  media  duorum  animalium  innotesceris,  "in  the 
midst  of  two  animals  shalt  thou  be  recognized.") 1 

1.  It  is  therefore  needless  to  speak  of  "  The  Nativities  " 
of  the  trecentisti,  as  the  fourteenth  century  painters  are 
called  in  Italy.     They  repeat  the  fundamental  theme  in 
the  same  manner  as  Giotto  had  done  in  the  Arena  Chapel 
at  Padua,  and  in  Santa  Croce  at  Florence.     The  Nativity 
by  Orcagna  illustrates  at  once  the  immaturity  of  the  art 
in  his  day,  and  the  conventionality  of  treatment.2 

2.  A  freer  treatment  was  gradually  developed.     Maso- 
lino  da  Panicale  paints  the  rock  in  which  the  shepherds 
were  traditionally  said  to  have  taken  refuge  from  a  storm, 
and  this  rock  often  reappears.      Paula  and  Eustochium, 
the  lady  companions  of  St.  Jerome's  pilgrimage,  writing 
from  Bethlehem  to  Marcella  at  Rome,  had  said,  "  It  is  in 
the  fissure  of  a  rock  that  the  Architect  of  the  Firmament 

Rembrandt's  Nativity  (b.  1606)  all  traces  of  symbolism  have  vanished, 
and  there  is  no  religious  feeling  or  exegetical  quality  whatever.  It  is  a 
mere  study  of  light  and  shade.  "  Heu  I  pietas,  heu  prisca  fides  /" 

1  In  our  Authorized  and  Revised  Versions  the  verse  is,  "  in  the  midst  of 
the  years  make  known."     There  was  also  a  reference  to  Is.  i.  3. 

2  National  Gallery,  n°,  573. 


THE   NATIVITY.  235 

was  born."  But,  as  in  Burne  Jones's  Nativity,  some  of 
the  rocky  ground  has  burst  into  flowers  to  receive  the 
Lord  of  Life.  The  little  St.  John  is  present  with  his  cross 
of  reeds.  The  Virgin  is  on  her  knees  with  hands  joined 
in  prayer  before  her  Son.  In  the  heavens  are  seen  the 
unfolded  hands  of  the  Father,  and  the  Holy  Dove  is 
descending,  accompanied  by  two  angels.1 

3.  Angelico  treated  the  subject  at  San  Marco  with  his 
usual    simplicity   and    heavenly   sweetness.     There   is   a 
charming  little    Nativity  by  Baldinovetti,  the  master  of 
Ghirlandajo,  in  which  St.  Joseph  sits  (as  often),  with  a 
look  of  deep  and  saddened  thoughtfulness,  embracing  his 
knee,  and  two  youthful  shepherds  approach  in  attitudes  of 
astonishment  and  reverence. 

4.  The  treatment  of  the  subject  by  PIERO  DELLA  FRAN- 
CESCA,2  in  the  National  Gallery,  is  full  of  originality  and 
charm.     The  picture,  indeed,  is  quite  unfinished,  and  is 
full  of  the  defects  of  an  art  as  yet  imperfect.     Upon  a 
cushion  among  the  flowers  lies  the  naked  new-born  Child 
lifting  His  two  little  hands.     At  His  feet,  kneels  in  prayer, 
the  sweet  and  simple  Virgin.     Upon  a  pack-saddle  sits  St. 
Joseph,  nursing  his  leg ;  and  the  sole  of  his  foot  is  turned 
towards  the  spectator.     Behind  him  stand  two  shepherds, 
one  of  whom  is  pointing  upwards.     Farther  away  is  a  rude 
penthouse,  on  the  grass-grown  roof  of  which  sits  a  magpie.3 
To  the  right  is  a  town,  to  the  left  a  valley  with  rocks  and 
trees.     Birds  are  scattered  here  and  there  in  the  land- 
scape.    Between  the  penthouse  and  the  Child  stands  a 
group  of   five    angels  with  musical  instruments.     Being 
angels,  they  cast  no  shadow,  but  they  open  their  mouths 
like  singers  and  touch   their   lutes  with  skilled  fingers. 

1  In  the  Academy  at  Florence. 

2  This  is  the  name  which  Vasari  gave  him,  and  says  that  he  was  so 
called  after  his  mother.    Pacioli  calls  him,  more  correctly,  Pietro  dei' 
Franceschi. 

3  This  ruined  penthouse  was  often  intended  by  the  mediaeval  painters 
to  symbolize  the  ruins  of  the  Old  Dispensation. 


236 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


Between  the  angels  and  the  Virgin  looks  the  solemn 
ox,  while  over  the  shoulder  of  one  of  them  the  ass  is 
lifting  its  head  and  unmistakably  emitting  an  astonished 


The  Nativity.     (Piero  della  Franceses.) 

bray.1  "  In  colour,"  says  Mr.  Monkhouse,  "  it  is  thoroughly 
original  in  its  tender  modulation  of  soft  blues,  with  browns 
and  grays.  There  is  no  aerial  perspective,  but  the  picture 
is  a  collection  of  careful  studies.  Even  the  pearls  on  the 
robes  of  the  angels  and  in  the  head-dress  of  the  Virgin 
are  carefully  wrought  out.  The  posture  is  fresh  and 
delightful,  and  none  the  less  religious,  because  the  painter 

1 1  notice  the  same  curious  incongruity  in  a  Nativity  by  Moretto  at 
Brescia. 


THE  NATIVITY.  Sandra  B<>t/i<;  Hi. 

From  the  Picture  in  the  National  Gallery,  London. 


THE  NATIVITY.  237 

has  chosen  to  clothe  his  feeling  in  the  forms  of  his  experi- 
ence." 1 

5.  There  is  no  deeper  and  more  interesting  picture  in 
our  Gallery  than  the  little  Nativity  of  Sandro  Botticelli, 
and  it  is  disheartening  to  see  the  cold  and  careless  glance 
which  is  all  that  it  attracts  from  most  visitors.  They  may 
be  repelled  by  its  lack  of  modern  technique,  but  it  is  a 
picture  of  supreme  loveliness,  and  full  of  divine  meaning. 
I  have  always,  regarded  it  as  one  of  the  sweetest  and  most 
far-reaching  sermons  ever  preached  on  the  inmost  meaning 
of  Christmas  Day.  It  indicates  the  effects  wrought  by  the 
birth  of  Jesus  in  heaven,  and  on  earth,  and  under  the 
earth;  and  it  sets  forth,  above  all,  the  doctrine  of  Savo- 
narola, that  the  Incarnation  meant,  "God  and  sinners 
reconciled,"  and  "  man  made  a  little  lower  than  the  angels, 
crowned  with  glory  and  honour." 

In  the  upper  part  of  the  picture  is  a  sky,  of  which  the 
exquisite  colours  melt  by  dewy  gradations  from  the  golden 
glory  of  the  celestial  heavens  to  the  blue  of  our  lower 
horizon.  In  this  sky  is  a  wreath  of  twelve  angels,  joined 
hand  in  hand  in  enraptured  dances.  They  are  clad  like 
the  angels  of  Fra  Angelico,  in  robes  of  the  most  tender 
vernal  colourings,  and  their  attitudes  are  full  of  grace  and 
charm.  Their  wings, '  like  their  robes,  are  alternately  of 
red,  green,  and  white.  Each  of  them  holds  a  branch  of 
olive  and  myrtle,  and  a  banderole,  with  the  inscription, 
Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo,  from  which  hangs  a  light  golden 
crown.  The  faces  of  some  of  them  are  turned  heaven- 
wards, and  reflect  the  radiance  of  the  beatific  vision, 
while  others  glance  downwards  with  looks  of  sympathy  to 
earth,  as  though  they  were  thinking  of  the  Et  in  terris  pax 
hominibus  bonae  voluntatis. 

Directly  underneath  them  is  a   dark   grove   of   pines, 
Dante's  symbol  of  the  tangled  forest  of  human  life.     But, 
in  the  midst  of  the  dark  wood,  on  a  mass  of  white  rock  — 
symbol  of   the   purity  and  impregnable   strength   of  the 

1  The  Italian  Pre-Haphaelites,  p.  40. 


238 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


Gospel  —  rises  the  stable  of  Bethlehem.  On  its  pent- 
house roof,  three  angels  in  the  crimson  robes  of  Love,  the 
white  of  Innocence,  the  green  of  Hope,  chant  their  new 
carols.  On  the  ground  lies  the  Holy  Babe  in  all  the  joy- 
ous life  of  infancy,  with  finger  pointing  to  His  mouth  as 
though  to  say,  "  I  am  the  Word  of  God."  1  At  His  feet 
kneels  Mary,  worshipping  in  something  of  sad  bewilder- 
ment, and  at  His  head,  leaning  against  a  pack-saddle,  Joseph 


Antonio  Eossellino. 

bends  in  deep  humility,  his  face  shrouded  by  his  mantle. 
Behind  him  are  the  ox,  the  ass,  and  the  manger.  Thus  was 
indicated  the  truth  that  even  for  the  lower  animals  the 
Heavenly  Father  cares. 

On  either  side  of  the  manger  are  the  three  Magi  and  the 
three  shepherds,  representing  mankind,  both  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  at  each  age  and  of  every  rank,  who  are  being 

1  Compare  the  accompanying  wood-cuts. 


THE   NATIVITY. 


239 


brought  into  the  presence  of  Christ  by  ardent  angels,  who 
crown  their  brows  with  olive,  the  symbol  of  fruitfulness, 
peace,  and  gladness.  In  the  lower  part  of  the  picture 
three  pairs  of  figures  enfold  each  other  in  a  holy  and  pas- 
sionate embrace.  Three  bright  angels,  with  "good  will 


Andrea  della  Eobbia. 


to  men  "  on  the  scrolls  which  they  carry,  are  embracing  a 
youth,  an  old  man,  and  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life,  to  rep- 
resent "  heaven  and  earth  rushing  together,  by  the  birth  of 
a  Redeemer  reconciled,  reunited  after  bitter  severance.  God 


240  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

has  towards  each  an  equal  yearning  in  separation.  It  is 
assuredly  no  fancy  to  discern,  in  the  assertion  of  a  pro- 
found and  burning  brotherhood  between  heaven  and  earth, 
the  keynote  of  this  painting  —  this  lyric  of  redemption,  for 
such  it  is." J  At  the  bottom  of  the  picture,  devils,  small, 
and  ugly,  and  contemptible,  strive  to  hide  themselves 
"in  the  clefts  of  the  rocks  and  the  holes  of  the  ragged 
rocks,"  and  thus  the  picture  expresses  the  effects  of  the 
Advent  on  the  good  and  the  evil.  The  inscription,  in  bad 
Greek  at  the  top,  shews  the  tension  of  feeling  under  which 
this  picture  was  painted  at  the  end  of  A.D.  1500,  "  in  the 
troubles  of  Italy,  in  the  half-time  after  the  time  during 
the  fulfilment  of  John  xi.,  in  the  Second  Woe  of  the 
Apocalypse,  in  the  loosing  of  the  devil  for  three  years  and 
a  half.  Afterwards  he  shall  be  chained,  and  we  shall 
see  him  trodden  down,  as  in  this  picture."  "  Botticelli's 
pictures  generally  shew  a  deep  vein  of  sadness,  even  amid 
their  exultation.  He  is  busy  with  death  and  sad  in  spite 
of  himself." 

Can  any  one  who  has  learned  to  understand  this  picture 
look  without  delight  upon  its  subtle  colouring  and  lovely 
forms?  And  when  we  grasp  its  mystic  symbolism,  can  we 
be  wholly  untouched  by  the  hope  and  holiness  which  it 
breathes  into  the  soul  ? 

6.  The  Nativity  was  naturally  a  favourite  subject  of  the 
gentle  arid  holy  LORENZO  DI  CREDI  (b.  1456).  His 
masterpiece  is  in  the  Academy  of  Arts  at  Florence.  The 
Child  —  His  hand  pointing  to  His  mouth  with  the  gesture 
which  was  traditional  in  this  school  —  lies  among  lovely 
flowers,  not  on  a  cushion,  but  on  a  cloth  thrown  over  a 
sheaf  of  wheat,  with  allusion  to  the  words,  "I  am  the 
Bread  of  Life."  At  the  left  kneels  a  shepherd  in  adora- 
tion ;  behind  Him  stands  another,  in  an  attitude  of  devotion 
and  astonishment.  The  third,  a  beautiful  youth  with  a 
face  full  of  thought,  carries  a  lamb.  At  the  right  is  the 
sad  and  modest  Virgin  in  prayer.  A  young  angel  kneels 
1  Professor  Sidney  Colvin,  Portfolio,  III.  25. 


THE   NATIVITY.  241 

on  either  side  of  her,  and  two  others  whisper  tenderly  to- 
gether behind  her,  while  one  points  heavenward  with  his 
finger,  as  though  to  say,  "  This  Babe  is  the  Son  of  God." 
St.  Joseph,  leaning  on  his  staff,  looks  gravely  down  at  the 
scene.  The  picture  shews  a  want  of  originality  in  its 
reminiscences  of  the  manner  of  Fra  Filippo,  Leonardo, 
Perugino,  Ghirlandajo,  and  Luini,  but  it  shews  all  the  har- 
mony of  composition,  the  variety  of  expression,  the  con- 
scientious care  and  sincere  feeling  which  characterize  the 
painter.1  Lorenzo  had  never  felt  the  whirlwind  gust  of 
violence  which  Michael  Angelo  let  loose  over  the  repose 
of  devotional  pictures.  All  is  calm  and  holy  silence. 
"  The  great  works  which  God  does  in  the  hearts  of  His 
creatures,"  says  Bossuet,  "  naturally  produce  silence,  rap- 
ture, and  something  indescribably  divine,  which  suppresses 
all  expression." 

7.  AMBROGIO  BORGOGNONE,  born  about  the  same  time 
as  Credi,  worked  much  at  Padua  and  Milan.  There  is  a 
fine  Nativity  by  him,  fervent  and  spiritual,  in  the  Church 
of  San  Celso  at  Milan,  in  which  the  Virgin  kneels  behind 
the  Child,  who  blesses  the  donor  of  the  picture.  St.  John 
and  St.  Roch,  grave  and  noble  figures,  stand  on  each  side 
of  the  Virgin.  Two  little  angels  in  white  kneel  on  the 
earth,  and  three  others  in  heaven.  There  is  another  of 
his  works  at  Dresden,  in  which  the  Virgin  —  clothed  in  a 
long  white  robe,  on  which  is  broidered  in  gold  the  word 
Pax  under  a  crown  —  wears  an  expression  of  the  deepest 
sadness,  though  the  Father  is  appearing  in  glory  above 
in  a  cloud  of  angels,  on  whose  banderole  are  the  words, 
Gloria  in  Excehis.  Borgognone  was  a  man  of  "refined 
nature  and  intense  spiritual  feeling.  The  presentment  of 
divine  or  holy  personages  in  calm  serenity,  or  in  resigned 
suffering,  accorded  best  with  his  temperament.  Even  his 
colouring  partakes  of  the  prevailing  sentiment ;  the  gray 

1  It  is  outlined  in  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  III.  470,  and  Rosini,  IV. 
201.  Vasari  says :  "  Nessuno  fu,  che  nella  pulitezza  e  nel  finir  1'  opere  con 
diligenzia  1'  imitasse  (Leonardo)  piu  di  lui." 

B 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

pallor  of  his  heads  is  only  modified  now  and  then  by  the 
reddened  eyelids  of  sorrow.  Nothing  can  be  more  touch- 
ingly  beautiful  than  the  type  and  character  of  some  of  his 
more  beautiful  faces."1 

8.  Very  different,  as  might  have  been  expected,  is  the 
Nativity  of  LUCA  SiGNORELLi.2     It  is  an  ambitious,  and 
in  spite  of  its  brown  hue,  a  splendid  picture,  which  endeav- 
ours to  tell  at  once  the  whole  story  of  St.  Luke.     The 
naked  Babe  lies  on  a  cushion.     The  kneeling  Virgin  is 
clad  in  robes  of  blue  and  green  —  the  colours  of  heaven  and 
of  hope.     On  the  right,  with  clasped  hands,  sits  St.  Joseph 
in  orange  and  crimson.     Behind  them  are  three  radiant 
angels  with   their   wings    "of  many   a   coloured   plume, 
sprinkled  with  gold."     On  the  left  are  two  kneeling  shep- 
herds, with  others    standing  behind  them,  and  they  are 
"  sore  afraid "  of  the  vision  of  the  Heavenly  Host.     One 
of  the  shepherds  has  taken  refuge  in  a  cave,  where  he  sits 
playing  on  a  pipe,  and  crowned  with  ivy  like  a  young 
Greek  god  —  an  evident  reminiscence  of  the  antique.    The 
faces  can  hardly  be  called  either  devotional  or  tender,  but 
there  is  the  finest  human  beauty  in  the  brown  shepherd  in 
the  straw  hat  and  his  young  companion.     On  either  side 
of  the  Virgin  are  fair-haired  angels,  one  of  whom  peers 
rather  affectedly  round  the  Virgin's  shoulder. 

9.  FRANCIA'S  Nativity  in  the  Gallery  of  Bologna  is  a 
fine    picture.3      It   was   painted   for   the    Church   of    the 

1  Sir  F.  V.  Burton. 

2  National  Gallery,  No.  1133. 

3  Messrs.  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle  hardly  do  justice  to  Francia.    They 
say :  "  It  is  a  delicate  and  somewhat  feminine  style,  the  devotional  feeling 
of  which  is  much  on  the  surface,  and  wants  life  and  glow,  commingling 
in  equal  parts  the  tenderness  of  Perugino  and  Lo  Spagna  (?),  the  smooth- 
ness of  Credi,  and  the  ruddiness  of  the  Ferrarese,  with  a  veil  of  coldness 
over  all.    Francia  is,  in  fact,  to  Perugino  what  Cima  is  to  Bellini.     He  is 
at  home  in  quiet  scenes,  where  he  introduces  a  pretty,  pleasant  Madonna, 
a  kindly  Babe,  and  saints  of  small  and  elegant  stature  ;  but  he  has  neither 
the  fervency  of  Vannucci  nor  the  power  of  Conegliano.     When  Raphael 
declared  that  Francia's  Virgins  were  the  most  beautifully  devout  that  he 
had  ever  seen,  he  was  indulging  in  flattery.     When  Michael  Angelo  said 


THE   NATIVITY.  243 

Misericordia,  at  the  request  of  Anton  Bentivoglio,  a  red- 
cross  knight,  who  is  introduced  praying  among  the  three 
shepherds.  A  mitred  bishop  and  two  saints  are  at  the 
right,  and  in  the  centre  kneels  the  happy,  smiling,  adoring 
Virgin.  The  peculiarity  of  the  picture  lies  in  the  intensity 
of  concentration  with  which  every  thought  and  look  are 
fixed  upon  the  Shining  Child,  who  lies  on  a  little  pallet  in 
the  midst.  Beside  Him  two  finches  are  singing  on  a  spray 
which  grows  out  of  a  cleft  in  the  rocks. 

10.  TIXTORET'S  Nativity  in  the  Scuola  of  San  Rocco  is 
marked  by  all  his  originality.  The  scene  is  placed  in  the 
upper  loft  of  the  stable ;  the  ox  and  the  ass  are  below,  and 
near  them  is  a  peacock.  A  cock  is  pecking  among  the 
straw.  The  Child  lies  in  a  sort  of  wicker  cradle,  and  the 
Virgin  is  lifting  the  veil  to  shew  her  Son  to  a  group  of 
noble  peasant-shepherds.  The  face  of  the  Virgin  is  one 
of  the  loveliest  which  Tintoret  ever  painted. 

10.  The  latest  picture  of  the  Nativity  in  our  Gallery  is 
by  BERNARDO  CAVALLTNO  (f  1654),  a  member  of  the 
not  very  estimable  School  of  Naples.  He  was  an  eclectic 
and  a  naturalist,  who  killed  himself  at  thirty-one  by  drunk- 
enness. From  painters  of  such  schools  we  can  expect  no 
noble  treatment  of  so  divine  a  subject.  Only  a  thought- 
less painter  would  have  debased  his  theme  by  so  frivolous 
an  incident  as  a  white  dog  springing  at  the  patient  ox  of 
the  manger !  The  painter  was  probably  wholly  unconscious 
of  the  self-betrayal  involved  in  this  incident.  Yet  it  shews 
decisively  how  far  the  divinest  of  scenes  had  been  degraded 

to  Francia' s  son  that  his  father's  living  creations  were  better  than  his 
painted  ones,  he  gave  vent  to  the  same  scorn  with  which  he  had  already 
treated  Perugino  ;  there  was  as  little  cause  for  the  exaggerated  praise  of 
the  first  as  for  the  excessive  abuse  of  the  second."  — I.  562.  "The  Ital- 
ians describe  his  style  as  antico-moderno,  the  intermediate  style  which 
preceded  that  of  the  great  sixteenth-century  masters."  —  Wornum.  The 
supposed  correspondence  between  Francia  and  Raphael  is  now  regarded 
as  spurious,  and  there  is  no  ground  for  Vasari's  story  that  Francia  died 
of  chagrin  when  Raphael's  St.  Cecilia  came  to  Bologna,  and  he  saw  how 
much  his  own  skill  was  surpassed. 


244  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

into  mere  "  subjects  "  in  which  the  artist  thought  of  little 
beyond  his  own  skill  and  originality,  with  which  his 
patrons  were  content  so  long  as  they  obtained  a  picture 
which  looked  decorative  as  a  piece  of  furniture.  Better 
things  might  have  been  hoped  of  MAZZOLINO  (f  1528), 
the  "  glowworm,"  as  he  has  been  called,  of  the  learned  and 
noble  School  of  Ferrara.  Yet  he,  too,  in  his  Holy  Family, 
introduces  a  little  St.  John,  who,  instead  of  being  absorbed 
in  the  scene  before  him,  is  protecting  a  cat  from  the  perse- 
cutions of  a  monkey ! 

11.  Of  the  German  School  there  is  a  very  lovely 
Nativity  by  Albert  Diirer  in  the  fifth  plate  in  his  Rhine 
Passion. 

There  is,  as  usual,  the  ruined  penthouse.  On  the  right 
kneel  two  old  shepherds,  one  of  whom  wears  an  expression 
of  almost  shrinking  reverence.  Over  the  tree,  in  front  of 
which  they  kneel,  flames  a  large  star.  Through  the  broken 
arch  is  seen  in  the  far  distance  the  Herald  Angel,  appear- 
ing to  the  shepherds  as  they  keep  their  flocks  by  night. 
At  the  left,  his  face  full  of  joy,  stands  the  aged  Joseph 
with  a  lantern  in  one  hand.  Exactly  in  the  centre  of  the 
picture  is  a  basket,  laid  on  the  straw,  in  which  lies  the 
little  newborn  child,  who  stretches  out  His  right  hand  to 
the  Virgin  Mother.  She  kneels  before  the  cradle  in  ado- 
ration, with  her  arms  crossed  upon  her  breast.  Behind  the 
cradle  kneels  a  lovely  child-angel,  who,  with  infinite  solici- 
tude and  tenderness,  is  bending  over  the  Infant  Saviour. 
It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  charm  of  this  little  picture  in 
its  absolute  simplicity  and  perfect  composition. 


THE   NATIVITY. 


THE   ADORATION   OF  THE   SHEPHERDS. 

"  Say,  ye  holy  shepherds,  say, 
What's  your  joyful  news  to-day  ? 
Wherefore  have  ye  left  your  sheep 
On  the  lonely  mountain  steep  ?  " 

—  Carol. 

The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds  and  the  Adoration  of 
the  Magi  are  subjects  often  treated  as  immediate  adjuncts 
of  the  Nativity,  and  therefore  we  need  say  but  little  of 
them  separately. 

The  former  is  not  so  favourite  a  -subject  as  the  latter, 
because  it  gave  less  scope  for  splendour  and  variety.  The 
central  idea  of  its  best  treatment  was  to  illustrate  the 
reward  and  the  rapture  of  the  lowly  and  faithful.1 

In  early  Christian  Art  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds, 
as  in  Botticelli's  Nativity,  is  often  combined  with  the 
Adoration  of  the  Magi.  The  latter  was  an  exceedingly 
common  theme,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  many  plates  fur- 
nished by  Fleury ;  of  the  former  there  is  scarcely  a  single 
separate  representation. 

No  painter  has  treated  the  subject  more  beautifully  than 
LORENZO  LOTTO  —  whom  even  the  vile  Pietro  Aretino 
addressed  :  "  O  Lotto,  good  as  goodness,  and  virtuous  as 
virtue."  His  picture  is  at  his  native  Bergamo,  where 

1  Fleury  says  (L'JSvangtte,  I.  63)  :  "A  Rome  et  dans  1'occident,  on 
dfit  peu  s'occuper  des  bergers ;  tandis  que  les 
mages  viennent  continuellement  dans  les  monu- 
ments Chretiens  des  premiers  temps."  In  the 
very  few  representations  of  this  subject  Jesus  is 
always  pannis  involutus  like  an  Italian  child. 
The  reader  will  be  interested  to  see  the  only 
specimen  known  to  Fleury  of  the  shepherds 
without  the  Magi.  It  is  from  a  bas-relief  in  the 
Lateran,  and  is  of  the  fourth  century.  (Fleury, 
PI.  XIX.,  Fig.  4.)  The  shepherd,  known  by  his 
pedum,  is  being  led  by  an  angel. 


246  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

alone  his  true  greatness  can  be  seen.1  One  of  the  shep- 
herds has  brought  a  lamb,  and  holds  it  towards  the  Infant 
Christ.  It  is  on  its  fore  knees,  and  seems  to  look  down 
with  astonished  love  as  the  little  golden-headed  Babe  lifts 
up  to  the  innocent  creature  His  white  arms  to  clasp  its 
neck.  Behind  this  shepherd  stands  a  great  angel  with 
blue  wings  outspread,  whose  hand  rests  on  the  man's  coarse 
dress,  while  a  second  angel  lays  his  hand  on  the  shoulder 
of  another  shepherd.  The  Virgin,  a  splendid  figure  in 
crimson,  blue,  and  white,  kneels  adoring,  over  the  Child, 
who  lies  partly  on  a  blue  fold  of  her  robe,  and  partly  in  a 
wicker  crate  covered  with  green  grass. 

Lotto  was  the  pupil  of  Bellini  and  the  friend  of  Titian. 
He  resembles  Luini  in  the  stainless  purity  of  his  art,  as  he 
resembles  Fra  Angelico  in  the  peaceful  inwardness  and 
holy  retirement  of  his  monastic  life.  He  died  at  last  the 
pensioner  of  a  charity  which  he  himself  had  founded.  In 
1548,  Aretino  wrote  of  this  pure  soul,  "  Your  heart  knows 
no  envy ;  on  the  contrary,  you  feel  a  pleasure  in  seeing  in 
other  masters  the  beauties  which  you  think  you  do  not 
possess.  .  .  .  But  if  you  excel  them  in  painting,  you 
leave  them  far  behind  in  the  practice  of  a  real  piety. 
Heaven  has  in  store  for  you  a  glory  which  is  not  to  be  com- 
pared to  the  praises  of  men."2 

There  is  an  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds  by  ROMAXINO  at 
Brescia,  which  shews  all  the  skill  and  quaintness  of  the 
painter.  The  Virgin  is  dressed  in  a  splendid  robe  of  white 
sheeny  satin,  with  a  border  of  gold  over  a  crimson  tunic. 
She  is  adoring  the  lovely  Child,  who  lies  on  white  satin. 
A  shepherd  leans  over  Him  with  outspread  hands.  Three 
cherubs  float  above  with  a  cartellino ;  two  of  them  are  fore- 
shortened in  a  startling  manner. 

1  It  is  in  the  Palazzo  Martinengo. 

2  On  Lotto,  see  Lanzi,  p.  142.     Rio,  whose  chief  admiration  is  for  the 
mystic  school,  recalled  attention  to  this  unequal  but  delightful  painter, 
whose  impressible  genius  preserves  the  trace  of  various  influences,  and 
shows  affinities  with  Correggio. 


THE  XATIVITY.  247 

The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds  by  REMBRANDT,  in  our 
National  Gallery,  painted  in  1646,  impresses  us  far  more 
by  its  depths  of  light  and  shade  than  by  its  treatment  of  a 
sacred  motive.  As  in  Correggio's  famous  La  Notte  in  the 
Dresden  Gallery,  all  the  light  in  the  picture  comes  from 
the  Holy  Child,  and  this  light  entirely  dims  the  glow  of 
the  lantern  which  one  of  the  shepherds  carries.  Mr. 
Ruskin  says,  much  too  severely,  that  it  was  the  aim  of 
Rembrandt  "  to  paint  the  foulest  things  he  could  see  by 
rushlight " ;  but  certainly  such  greatness  as  he  has  is  not 
that  of  being  a  religious  painter.  In  Correggio's  picture 
the  central  thought  is  the  radiant  Babe,  but  in  Rem- 
brandt's Bible  by  Candlelight,  we  stagger,  as  Hazlitt 
says,  "  from  one  abyss  of  obscurity  to  another,"  and  think 
of  nothing  but  glimmerings  and  shadows.  Rembrandt, 
artistically,  at  any  rate,  "loved  darkness  rather  than 
light." 

There  is  another  treatment  of  the  subject  by  VELASQUEZ. 
It  is  based  on  the  depraved  style  of  Ribera  and  Caravaggio, 
and  was  entirely  unsuited  for  the  genius  of  the  painter. 
It  is  a  naturalistic  and  somewhat  vulgar  picture.  The 
shepherds  —  peasants  of  the  most  ordinary  type  —  are 
bringing  lambs  and  fowls,  and  a  boy  is  offering  his  ani- 
mals to  the  Infant  Christ.  "  No  Virgin  ever  descended 
into  Velasquez's  studio,"  says  Ford,  "  no  cherubs  hovered 
around  his  pallet.  He  did  not  work  for  priest,  or  ecstatic 
anchorite,  but  for  plumed  kings  arid  booted  knights ;  hence 
the  neglect  and  partial  failure  of  his  holy  and  mythologic 
pictures  —  holy,  like  those  of  Correggio,  in  nothing  but 
name  ;  groups  rather  of  low  life,  and  that  so  truly  painted, 
as  still  more  to  mar,  by  a  treatment  not  in  harmony  with 
the  subject,  the  elevated  sentiment."1 

The  most  famous  picture  of  CORREGGIO  is  La  Notte  in 
the  Dresden  Gallery.  It  has  all  his  sweetness  and  incon- 
testable charm,  his  mastery  of  colouring,  his  sunny  soft- 
ness, his  technical  skill  in  chiaroscuro.  The  light  from 
1  Ford's  Handbook  for  Travellers  in  Spain. 


248  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

the  Divine  Child,  as  He  lies  on  the  straw  of  the  manger, 
irradiates  the  happy  smiling  features  of  the  Virgin,  and 
dazzles  the  astonished  gaze  of  the  humble  shepherdess, 
who  is  bringing  a  pair  of  turtle-doves.1  A  poor  old  shep- 
herd is  about  to  shroud  his  face  with  his  mantle,  and  the 
splendid  youth  by  his  side  turns  away  in  rapturous  aston- 
ishment. Behind  the  Virgin,  Joseph  is  tethering  the  ass, 
and  in  the  sky,  a  group  of  angels  of  exquisite  loveliness  — 
but  shewing  the  same  characteristic  foreshortening  which 
made  a  canon  of  Parma  say  to  Correggio,  after  looking  at 
his  decoration  of  the  Cathedral  dome,  "  ci  avete  fatto  guaz- 
zetto  di  rane"2 — are  singing  their  impassioned  Hosaii- 
nahs.  Correggio  was  a  man  of  somewhat  morbid  excita- 
bility, and  he  is  more  at  home,  it  has  been  truly  said,  in 
Pagan  or  semi-Pagan  subjects,  which  give  room  for  a  cer- 
tain intoxication  of  sensuous  joy  than  for  the  raptures  of 
divine  love.  His  Virgins  are  softly  voluptuous  ;  his  angels 
the  radiant  genii  of  heathendom.  "  Peut-on  re'connaitre  le 
Pre'curseur,"  asks  Gruyer,  respecting  another  of  his  pictures 
at  Dresden,  "dans  cet  ephebe  delirant  de  bonheur,  qui 
regarde  le  spectateur  avec  tant  de  provocation?  Est-ce 
bien  la  Vierge  enfin  cette  femme  charmante,  qui  re'pond 
avec  une  si  douce  langeur  aux  regards  ravis  de  ses  adora- 
teurs?  Les  dougeurs  ravissantes  de  ses  anges  et  de  ses 
saints  re'pondent  pre*cisement  a  un  £tat  de  crise,  pendant 
lequel  la  deVotion  elle-meme  allait  donner  1'exemple  de 
cette  sensibilitd,  j'allais  dire  de  cette  sensualite  religieuse." 
"  When  a  nation  has  reached  its  culminating  point."  says 
Morelli,  "we  see  everywhere,  in  daily  life,  as  well  as 
in  literature  and  in  art,  that  grace  comes  to  be  valued 
more  than  character.  So  it  was  in  Italy  in  the  closing 

1  Correggio  here  follows  the  legends  of  the  Apocryphal  Gospels.     "  And 
lo  the  cave  was  filled  with  light  more  beautiful  than  the  glittering  of 
lamps  and  candles  and  brighter  than  the  lightof  the  sun."  — Arab.  Ei-tiny. 
Infant.     "There  appeared  a  great  light  in  the  cave,  so  that  their  eyes 
could  not  bear  it."  —  Pj-otevang.     "Praesepe  jam  fulget  tuum."  —  St. 
Ambrose.     These  fancies  were  based  on  Is.  ix.  2. 

2  "You  have  made  us  a  fricassee  of  frogs." 


ADORATION  OF  THE  SHEPHERDS. 
From  the  Picture  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 


Correggio. 


THE   NATIVITY. 


249 


decades  of  the  fifteenth  and  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth 
century." 1 

The  appended  sketch  from  a  lovely  picture  by  FIORENZO 
DI  LORENZO,  in  the  Gallery  at  Perugia,  will  shew  the 


Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo. 

difference  of  feeling  which  separates  the  Perugian  painter 
of  the  fifteenth  century  from  the  Parmese  of  the  six- 
teenth. 

1 "  Der  Kunstler  ist  zwar  der  Sohu  Seiner  Zeit :  aber  schlimm  fur  ihn, 
vrenn  er  zugleich  ihr  Zogling,  oder  gar  ihr  Giinstling  ist."  —  Schiller. 


250 


THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 


THE   ADORATION  OF   THE   MAGI. 

"Reges  de  Sabia  venient 
Aurum,  thus,  myrrham  efferent." 

—  PISTOR. 

"Lo!  star-led  chiefs  Assyrian  odours  bring 
And  bending  Magi  seek  their  Infant  King." 

—  HEBER. 


THE   ANGELS'   SONG. 

"  What  means  this  glory  round  our  feet," 

The  Magi  mused,  "more  bright  than  morn? " 
And  voices  chanted,  clear  and  sweet, 
"  To-day  the  Prince  of  Peace  is  born." 

"  What  means  that  star,"  the  shepherds  said, 

"  That  brightens  through  the  rocky  glen?  " 
And  angels,  answering  overhead, 

Sang,  "  Peace  on  earth,  good-will  to  men  ! " 

And  they  who  do  their  souls  no  wrong, 

But  keep  at  eve  the  faith  of  morn, 
Shall  daily  hear  the  angels'  song, 

"  To-day  the  Prince  of  Peace  is  born! " 

—  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

Of  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  I  give  one  of  the  earliest 
and  a  very  interesting  specimen  from  the  beautiful  tomb  of 


the  exarch  Isaac  in  the  Church  of  St.  Vitalis  in  Ravenna. 
It  belongs  to  the  sixth  century,  and  the  figures  still  retain 


THE   NATIVITY. 


251 


something  of  the  antique  grace.1  The  Magi,  as  usual,  are 
dressed  in  Phrygian  caps,  anaxyrides,  short  tunics,  and 
flowing  mantles,  and  each  is  carrying  a  bowl  of  gifts  to 


Fourth-century  Sarcophagus. 

place  in  the  outstretched  hands  of  the  Infant.  He  sits 
on  the  knees  of  His  mother,  behind  whose  nimbus  shines 
the  mystic  Star  of  the  East.  The  sole  object  of  the  early 
Christian  artists  was  to  recall  the  event  with  the  most 
absolute  simplicity. 


In  later  days  the  scene  became  more  and  more  mag- 
nificent.     The    Magi    are   exalted    into    "  Kings    of    the 


1  There  is  another  early  one 
on  an  ancient  tomb,  given  by 
Fleury,  L'tfvangile,  PI.  XX., 
Fig.  2  ;  and  another  in  the  cem- 
etery of  SS.  Peter  and  Marcel- 
lina,  given  by  Lafenestre. 


252  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

East,"  and  are  types  alike  of  the  Gentiles,  of  the  rich, 
and  of  Humanity  in  its  three  periods  of  youth,  manhood, 
and  old  age.  The  apocryphal  Gospels  and  Eastern 
legends  were  incorporated  into  the  representation.1  The 
eldest  of  the  "  star-led  chiefs "  is  the  old  man  Gaspar, 
with  his  "  long  down-silvering  beard  "  ;  Balthasar  is  a  man 
in  the  prime  of  life ;  and  Melchior  is  a  fair  youth.  Often, 
too,  they  represent  the  three  races  of  mankind  —  Shem, 
Ham,  and  Japheth.  The  richness  and  quaintness  of  the 
possible  accessories,  the  depth  of  symbolism,  and  the 
variety  of  treatment  which  the  subject  admitted,  made  it 
one  of  the  favourite  themes  of  religious  art. 

1.  The  Adoration  of  the  Kings  by  GENTILE  DA  FABRI- 
ANO,  in  the  Academy  at  Florence,  is  a  truly  splendid  work, 
not  only  rich  arid  bright,  but  full  of  feeling.     The  details 
are  magnificent,  and  the  finish  is  extraordinary.     The  hand 
of  the  Child,  resting  on  the  bald  head  of  the  old  white- 
bearded  king  who  kneels  in  utter  lowliness  to  kiss  His 
feet,  is  a  marvel  of  grace,  dignity,  and  pathos.2 

2.  The  reader  will  see,  in  our  National  Gallery,  speci- 
mens of  the  way  in  which  the  scene  is  treated  by  the 
Florentines,  Fra  Angelico,  Filippino  Lippi,  and  Peruzzi : 3 

1  The  monk  John  of  Hildesheim,  who  died  in  1379,  wrote  a  Historia 
Trium  Regum,  printed  by  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  in  1499.     He  said  that  the 
Magi  were  "kings  of  India,  Caldee,  and  Persidee."     Melchior  was  king 
of  India,  Balthasar  of  Godolie  and  Arabia,  and  Jasper  of  Tarsis,  who 
was  "  moste  of  stature,  and  he  was  a  black  Ethioppe  wythoute  doubte." 
"These  were  the  firste  of  myscreantes  that  byleved  in  Criste."     The 
Venerable  Bede  says,  "Magi  tres  partes  mundi  significant  Asiam,  Afri- 
cam,  et  Europam."     They  were  supposed  to  be  sixty,  forty,  and  twenty 
years  of  age.     The  names  are  first  found  in  an  ecclesiastical  history  of 
1179. 

2  Reproduced  by  Mr.  Cole  in  Stillman's  Old  Italian  Masters,  p.  80. 

8  In  this  picture  (No.  218)  it  is  said  that  the  Magi  are  portraits  of 
Titian,  Raphael,  and  Michael  Angelo.  Botticelli's  Adoration  in  the  Uffizi 
is  not  one  of  his  better  works.  The  old  Mage  is  a  portrait  of  Cosimo  de' 
Medici,  and  the  two  others  of  Giuliano  (murdered  in  1516)  and  Giovanni 
(Leo  X.).  There  are  at  Florence  two  Adorations  by  Ghirlandajo  in  the 
Church  of  the  Innocents  (A.D.  1488)  and  in  the  Uffizi;  and  by  L.  da 
Vinci,  reproduced  by  Rosini. 


THE   NATIVITY.  253 

by  the  Ferrarese  Dosso  Dossi ;  the  Brescian  Vincenzo 
Foppa ;  the  Flemish  Gerard  David ;  by  a  Venetian  of  the 
school  of  Giorgione;  and  by  PAOLO  VERONESE.  The 
latter  picture  was  painted  in  1573,  and  Veronese  often 
recurred  to  a  subject  which  gave  scope  to  his  cheerful  and 
splendour-loving  genius.  I  quote  the  description  of  Sir 
F.  W.  Burton,  and  need  only  add  to  it  that  the  ruined 
building  is  perhaps  meant  for  a  Pagan  temple  in  which 
the  manifestation  of  Christ  to  the  Gentiles  is  taking  place. 

"  The  picture  represents  a  ruined  building  of  Roman 
architecture,  with  pillars,  a  portion  of  which  is  roofed  with 
thatch,  and  has  served  as  a  stable.  Under  this  roof,  on 
the  right  of  the  spectator,  is  seated  the  Virgin,  somewhat 
elevated  on  some  loose  blocks,  and  holding  in  her  arms  the 
Infant,  who  is  receiving  the  adoration  of  the  three  Wise 
Men;  the  foremost  is  kneeling;  the  second  is  behind  him, 
in  the  same  attitude ;  and  on  the  extreme  left  of  the  spec- 
tator stands  the  third.  A  ray  of  light,  with  several 
winged  cherubs  hovering  along  its  course,  falls  upon  the 
the  Infant;  above  is  a  group  of  infant  angels.  The 
retinue  of  the  Magi  are  behind,  some  bearing  presents, 
others  attending  to  their  horses  and  camels.  Some  peas- 
ants are  looking  down  from  the  ruins  on  the  Divine 
Infant ;  another  figure  is  seen  on  the  right  with  some 
dogs.  On  the  same  side  are  the  ox  and  the  ass;  some 
young  lambs  placed  below  the  Infant  appear  to  be  a  shep- 
herd's offering."1 

3.  DURER'S  Adoration  is  a  very  fine  composition.  The 
Virgin,  with  her  head  (as  often  in  Diirer's  pictures)  a 
little  on  one  side,  is  seated  against  the  broken  stone  wall 
of  a  ruined  castle.  The  face  is  full  of  joy.  The  Child, 
with  charming  grace,  stretches  His  open  hand  towards  the 
old  gray-haired  king,  who  kneels  and  bows  his  head  before 
Him  with  folded  hands  and  a  face  full  of  happy  wonder. 
He  has  presented  his  gift,  which  is  held  by  Joseph,  who 

1  Paul  Veronese  painted  the  subject  at  least  four  times,  and  Rubens  at 
least  six. 


254  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

is  gazing  at  the  scene  over  the  Virgin's  shoulder.  The 
second  king  holds  the  goblet,  which  he  means  to  present, 
but  pauses  to  beckon  forward  the  third,  who  is  holding 
his  plumed  hat  in  his  hand,  and  bending  the  knee,  but 
seems  too  timid  to  approach.  This  king  is  a  negro, 
though  his  face  is  white.  In  the  distance,  on  one  side, 
with  others  of  the  retinue,  is  a  man  in  chain-armour  holding 
some  of  the  offerings  in  his  hand.  On  the  other  side  are 
two  shepherds.  In  the  sky  above  gleams  the  mystic  star, 
and  three  boy-angels  chant  the  Gloria.  "  One  of  the  oxen, 
whose  face  peers  out  from  the  old  shed,  rubs  his  head 
lovingly  against  the  aged  Joseph,  and  his  solemn  eyes  look 
as  if  he  had  caught  some  glimmering  of  the  divine  mystery 
enacted  before  him."1  Another,  painted  by  Diirer  in 
1500,  for  the  Elector,  Frederick  the  Wise,  and  now  in  the 
Uffizi,  is  equally  striking,  though  wholly  different.2 

4.  But  there  is  perhaps  no  nobler  Adoration  of  the  Magi 
than  the  fresco  by  BERNARDINO  LUINI  at  Saronno.     The 
beautiful  and  modest  Virgin  is  leaning  against  the  manger 
wall,  with  the  ox  and  ass  behind  her.     The  Holy  Child, 
with  His  left  hand,  holds  the  edge  of  her  veil ;  His  little 
right  hand  blesses  a  grand  old  king  in  robes  of  ermine  and 
golden  chain,  whose  sword  and  turban  are  carried  by  a 
beautiful  youth.      Behind  him  is  the  youthful  Melchior, 
who  is  represented  as  a  fine  negro;  Balthazar  kneels  to 
present  his  offering  on  the  other  side.     One  of  the  attend- 
ants shades  his  eyes  from  the  star  which  gleams  above  the 
stable  roof.     Down  the  hillside  come  others  of  the  retinue 
leading  horses,  camels,  and  a  giraffe.     A  choir  of  lovely 
child-angels  sing  their  Christmas  carols  in  the  sky. 

5.  The  Adoration,  by  DOMENICO  GHIRLANDAJO,  in  the 
Ospizio   degli   Innocenti   at   Florence,  is   his  best  work. 
Specially  beautiful  is  the  attendant  youth  with  the  goblet 

1  It  is  in  the  Life  of  the  Virgin.     See  Thausing,  I.  331  (English  trans- 
lation), and  Heaton,  p.  123. 

2  Reproduced  by  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  130  (English  trans- 
lation). 


THE   NATIVITY.  255 

at  the  Virgin's  right.  The  aged  Gaspar  holds  in  his 
large  grasp  the  tiny  foot  of  the  Child,  and  tenderly  kisses 
it,  while  Mary  raises  her  hand  in  astonishment.  In  the 
distance,  on  either  side  of  the  landscape,  are  the  shepherds 
gazing  at  the  Herald  Angel,  and  the  Massacre  of  the 
Innocents.  The  picture  was  painted  in  1488.  "  A  de- 
lightful incident  in  this  picture  is  the  presentation  of  two 
exquisitely  natural  little  children  by  St.  John  the  Baptist 
on  one  side,  and  St.  John  the  Evangelist  on  the  other." 

6.  TINTORET'S  Adoration  in  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco  is 
the  most  finished  picture  in  that  marvellous  exhibition  of 
his  power  and  originality.1  "  The  whole  picture  is  nothing 
but  a  large  star,  of  which  Christ  is  the  centre ;  all  the 
figures,  even  the  timbers  of  the  roof,  radiate  from  the 
small  bright  figure  on  which  the  countenance  of  the  flying 
angels  are  bent,  the  star  itself,  gleaming  through  the 
timbers  above,  being  quite  subordinate.  The  placing  of 
the  two  doves,  as  principal  points  of  light  in  the  front  of 
the  picture,  reminding  the  spectator  of  the  poverty  of  the 
Mother,  whose  Child  is  receiving  the  offerings  and  adora- 
tion of  three  monarchs,  is  one  of  Tintoret's  master  touches ; 
the  whole  scene,  indeed,  is  conceived  in  his  happiest  man- 
ner. Nothing  can  be  at  once  more  humble  and  more 
dignified  than  the  bearing  of  the  kings ;  and  there  is  a 
sweet  reality  given  to  the  whole  by  the  Madonna's  stoop- 
ing forward  and  lifting  her  hand  in  admiration  of  the 
vase  of  gold  which  has  just  been  set  before  the  Child, 
though  she  does  so  with  such  gentleness  and  quietness 
that  her  dignity  is  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  action."2 

1  "The  haunting  sense  of  powers  almost  irresistible  gave  a  terrible 
fascination  to  Michelangelo's  works  which  are  swayed  by  this  sense  as 
by  a  demonic  presence.     Tintoretto  felt  this  fascination  because  he  was  in 
sympathy  with  the  spirit  which  took  form  in  colossal  torsos  and  limbs. 
To  him  these  were  not,  as  they  were  to  Michelangelo's  enrobed  followers, 
merely  new  patterns  after  which  to  model  the  nude."  —  Berenson,  Fe% 
netian  Painters,  51. 

2  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  327. 


256  THE    LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Sm  E.  BURNE  JONES,  in  his  water-colour  picture  of  The 
Star  of  Bethlehem,  has  painted  a  very  lovely  Adoration  of 
the  Kings.  The  lowly  cattle-shed  is  of  the  humblest 
character,  but  stands  in  a  garden  of  lilies  and  other  flowers, 
with  which,  at  Christ's  Advent,  the  wilderness  has  blos- 
somed as  the  rose.  The  wattle-work  behind  her  gives  the 
symbolism  of  the  "garden  enclosed."  Behind  her,  with 
the  keffyeh  drawn  over  his  head,  stands  St.  Joseph,  who 
has  been  gathering  a  bundle  of  sticks.  The  sweet-faced 
Virgin  is  seated  on  a  heap  of  straw,  and  holds  on  her  knees 
the  marvellous  Child,  who  has  turned  His  head  to  look  at 
the  approaching  Mages.  They  are  led  by  an  angel,  whose 
head  is  crowned  with  flowers,  and  who  holds  the  star  in 
his  hand.  Gaspar,  the  most  aged  of  the  Three  Kings, 
proffers  a  jewelled  box.  His  crown  lies  at  his  feet,  among 
the  flowers.  Melchior,  behind  him,  wears  a  helmet,  and  a 
suit  of  gleaming  chain-armour,  with  a  broadsword  in  its 
jewelled  scabbard.  His  golden  crown  is  in  his  left  hand. 
Balthasar,  the  third,  holds  his  offerings  in  both  hands,  and 
wears  a  robe  of  gorgeous  embroidery.  The  eyes  of  all 
three  are  intently  fixed  upon  the  Holy  Child.  "  Individu- 
ally and  collectively,"  says  Mr.  Malcom  Bell,  "they  are 
all  exquisite,  and  the  self-abasement  of  wealth  and  power 
before  the  weak  majesty  of  a  powerless  Mother  and  Babe, 
has  never  found  a  truer  or  fairer  exposition." l 

1  E.  Burne  Jones,  A  Record  and  Review,  p.  99. 


<!       & 
ft 


BOOK  VI. 

INCIDENTS   OF  THE  INFANCY. 


"Mediaeval  art  is  but  the  expression  of  the  joy  of  those  who  have 
found  the  young  child  with  Mary  His  mother."  — RVSKIX. 

"  Autrefois  le  temple  desarts  etaitle  temple  de  Dieu  ineme."  —  ALFRED 

DE  MUSSET. 

"  All  real  Art  is  the  disemprisoned  soul  of  fact."  —  CARLYLE. 


I. 

THE   CIRCUMCISION. 

"  Oh,  more  exceeding  love,  or  law  more  just  ? 
Just  law  indeed,  but  more  exceeding  love  ! " 

—  MILTON. 

THE  Circumcision  of  Christ  was  naturally  not  a  very 
favourite  motive  of  Mediaeval  Art,  nor  is  the  scene  once 
depicted  in  the  Catacombs  or  on  the  sarcophagi.  Burck- 
hardt  rightly  calls  it  "  an  insupportable  subject."  It  was, 
however,  introduced  as  one  of  "the  Seven  Sorrows  of 
Mary,"  —  still  symbolized  in  Romish  Churches  by  the 
Seven  Swords  in  her  heart,  —  which  were  sometimes 
painted  in  a  series  with  her  "  seven  joys."  This  aspect  of 
the  Circumcision  is  strikingly  indicated  by  Albrecht 
Diirer,  in  whose  engraving  "  the  Virgin  alone  is  stricken 
with  grief,  while  the  other  mothers,  who,  in  accordance 
with  the  traditional  mistake,  are  bringing  their  children 
to  the  Temple  to  be  circumcised,  exhibit  no  emotion.  " 

We  have  but  two  specimens  of  the  Circumcision  in  the 
National  Gallery.  One  is  by  Luca  Signorelli.  The  picture 
was  greatly  admired  by  Vasari,  who  says  that  the  Child 
was  repainted,  and  spoiled  in  repainting,  by  Sodoma.  The 
old  man  with  uplifted  hands  is  meant  for  the  aged  Simeon, 
and  the  richly  vested  High  Priest  is  said  to  be  a  portrait 
of  Signorelli  himself. 

Our  only  other  Circumcision  is  by  the  Venetian,  Marco 
Marziale,  one  of  the  assistants  of  Giovanni  Bellini.  It  is 
not  in  the  least  valuable  from  religious  feeling,  which  it 
wholly  fails  to  express,  but  it  shews  an  amazing  wealth  of 

259 


260  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

decorative  ingenuity,  especially  in  the  vestments,  draperies, 
and  arabesques.  It  is  an  ex  voto  picture,  with  likenesses 
of  the  Raimondi  family,  who  were  the  donors.1 

In  the  hands  of  Fra  Bartolommeo,2  and  other  serious 
painters,  the  desire  was  to  express  the  Child's  willing  suf- 
ferance of  pain  for  our  sakes.  They  put  into  colour  the 
thought  of  Milton :  — 

"  He  who  with  all  Heaven's  blazonry  erewhile 
Entered  the  world,  now  bleeds  to  give  us  ease. 

Alas,  how  soon  our  sin 

Sore  doth  begin 

His  infancy  to  seize ! 
For  we  by  rightful  doom  remediless 
Were  lost  in  death  till  He  that  dwelt  above 
High-throned  in  secret  bliss,  for  us  frail  dust 
Emptied  His  glory  even  to  nakedness." 

Even  Mantegna  failed  to  render  the  subject  of  the  Circum- 
cision endurable.  His  painting  is  in  the  Tribune  of  the 
Uffizi.3  The  circumcising  priest  is  a  stately  old  man  hold- 
ing the  knife  in  his  right  hand.  A  boy  beside  him  has  a 
dish  on  which  lie  a  pair  of  scissors  and  some  lint.  The 
Virgin  has  a  sad  and  anxious  expression,  and  the  Child 
turns  to  her  from  the  priest,  and  clings  to  her  robe  with  an 
expression  of  something  like  agony.  The  painting  of  the 
yellow  jasper  pillar,  the  gray  marble  capitals,  and  the  rich 
architectural  details  are  quite  superb.  The  Madonna  is  in 
a  robe  of  peacock  blue,  touched  with  gold;  the  priest's 
robe  is  of  light  blue  shot  with  purple,  and  with  a  fringe 
of  gold.  His  tunic  is  white,  and  a  towel  hangs  over  his 
shoulders. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  painters,  from  the  earliest 
days  in  which  the  subject  was  painted  at  all,  chose  to 
assume  that  it  took  place  in  the  Temple.  But  circum- 

1  See  G.  T.  Kobinson,  Art  Journal,  June,  1886. 

2  See  the  sketch  in  Rosini,  V.  45. 

8  The  other  parts  of  this  striking  triptych  represent  the  Adoration  of 
the  Magi  and  the  Ascension. 


THE   CIRCUMCISIOX. 


261 


cision  was  a  private  and  family  event,  and  it  is  reasonably 
certain  that  the  Circumcision  of  our  Lord,  like  that  of 
John,  took  place  in  the  house.  Painters  seem  sometimes 
to  confuse  it  with  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple,  a  wholly 
different  ceremony,  with  a  wholly  different  purpose — the 
Purification  of  the  Virgin. 

The  earliest  known  attempt  to  delineate  the  Presenta- 
tion is  in  a  fifth-century  mosaic  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 
of  which  a  sketch  is  appended.1 


There  is  a  very  simple,  but  singularly  charming  Presen- 
tation by  Giotto,  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  K.  Willett.  In 
the  centre  is  a  marble  canopy,  not  in  very  good  perspec- 
tive ;  on  it  stands  an  altar.  The  aged  Simeon  is  on  the 
right,  with  the  Child  in  his  arms.  The  Child  has  laid 
one  little  hand  on  the  mouth  and  beard  of  the  old  man, 
but  is  turning  away  from  him  and  stretches  His  other 
arm  and  hand  towards  the  Virgin,  who  is  holding  out 
both  her  hands  towards  Him  in  a  most  natural  and 
motherly  attitude.  Anna  stands  behind  Simeon,  and  St. 
Joseph  behind  the  Virgin.  The  background  is  gold. 

There  is  a  very  noble  Presentation  by  Fra  Bartolommeo 
in  the  Gallery  at  Vienna,  in  which  the  Child  blesses  St. 
Anna  and  St.  Elisabeth  on  the  right,  and  a  majestic  St. 

iFleury,  PI.  XIV.,  Fig.  1. 


262  THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Joseph  is  carrying  the  basket  with  the  two  young  pigeons. 
The  Virgin  holding  in  her  hand  one  little  foot,  and  clasping 
the  other  leg  near  the  ancle,  seems  loth  to  yield  her  sweet 
burden  into  the  hands  of  the  aged  Simeon.  Behind  is  a 
figure  of  Moses  with  the  Tables  of  the  Law. 

In  Carpaccio's  Presentation  in  the  Temple,  painted  in 
1510,  for  the  Church  of  San  Giobbe,  and  now  in  the 
Venice  Academy,  the  painter  reaches  his  greatest  height, 
and  almost  equals  Giovanni  Bellini  himself.  The  scene 
is  placed  before  an  arcade  of  rich  marble,  in  which  is  an 
altar.  On  the  one  side  stands  the  venerable  Simeon, 
dressed  as  a  magnificent  pontiff  in  his  robe  fringed  with 
bells  and  pomegranates,  and  in  a  superbly  painted  and 
embroidered  cope,  of  which  the  train  is  carried  by  two 
nimbus-bearing  attendants.  On  the  compartments  of  the 
orphreys  of  the  cope  are  painted  scenes  from  the  Old 
Testament.  Simeon  is  met  by  the  Virgin,  who  is  arrayed 
in  a  pale  crimson  robe  and  mantle  of  peacock  blue,  with  a 
white  veil  on  her  head.  She  carries  in  her  arms  a  noble 
Child.  Behind  her,  one  saintly  woman  looks  on  with  calm 
adoration,  and  another  carries  the  basket  with  the  turtle- 
doves. On  the  marble  step  beneath  are  three  wingless 
angioletti,  with  flute  and  viols,  of  whom  the  one  in  the 
centre  is  perhaps  the  most  charming  figure  which  Carpaccio 
ever  painted. 


II. 


THE   MASSACRE   OF   THE   INNOCENTS   AND   THE   FLIGHT 
INTO   EGYPT. 

"  Salvete  flores  martyrum, 
Quos,  lucis  ipso  in  limine, 
Christ!  insecutor  sustulit 
Ceu  turbo  nascentes  rosas." 

—  PRUDENT,  De  SS.  Innocentt. 

"  Rama  heard  that  woeful  cry 
Of  Rachel  weeping  for  children's  love ; 
Uncomforted  because  her  babes  are  gone." 

—  SIR  EDWIN  ARNOLD. 

THE  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  is  a  subject  which  has 
had  a  sort  of  ghastly  and  terrible  attraction  for  many 
painters,  but  I  give  no  specimens  of  the  scene,  as  it  only 
belongs  indirectly  to  the  personal  Life  of  Christ  on  earth.1 
The  Flight  into  Egypt  does  not  seem  to  have  been  painted 
till  the  eleventh  century,  when  it  appears  in  a  Greek 
manuscript  of  the  Biblioth£que  Rationale  at  Paris.  The 
early  pictures  all  follow  the  Byzantine  rule  of  the  Monk 
Panselinos,  "Joseph  and  the  Mother  of  God  fly  into 
Egypt.  The  Holy  Virgin,  seated  on  an  ass  with  the 
Infant,  looks  behind  her.  Joseph,  carrying  a  rod,  his 
staff  over  his  shoulder.  A  young  man  leads  an  ass  laden 
with  a  basket  of  rushes."  This  young  man,  according  to 
an  ecclesiastical  tradition,  which  St.  Jerome  calls  a  delira- 

1  Mrs.  Jameson  points  out  that  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  became 
a  popular  subject  after  1450,  owing  to  the  interest  excited  by  the  Ospe- 
dale  degli  Innocenti  at  Florence,  which  was  united  in  1463  with  the 
Foundling  Institution  attached  to  the  Monastery  of  San  Gallo. 

263 


264  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

mentum  apocryphorum,  was  James  the  Less,  who  is  called 
Adelphotheos,  "  the  brother  of  God."  The  idols  are  often 
represented  tumbling  to  the  ground  and  lying  shattered 
upon  their  faces,  as  the  Holy  Child  enters  the  heathen 
land.  This  incident  is  related  in  the  Apocryphal  Gospels. 
Another  legend  borrowed'from  the  same  source  is  the  bend- 
ing of  the  palm  tree,  at  the  command  of  the  Child  Jesus, 
to  give  them  dates.1 

The  subject,  in  one  or  other  of  its  aspects,  has  been 
treated  by  Giotto  and  the  Giotteschi,  by  Titian,  Paul 
Veronese,  Peruzzi,  Correggio,  Domenichino,  Murillo,  Ru- 
bens, Van  Dyck,  Rembrandt,  Claude,  Poussin,  and  others. 
It  was  also  painted  by  Albrecht  Diirer,  Lucas  Cranach, 
Albrecht  Altdorfer,  Martin  Schongauer,  and  Adrian  Van 
der  Werff.  Some  of  these  pictures  are  described  and  re- 
produced, in  an  excellent  article  in  Harper's  New  Monthly, 
December,  1889,  by  Mr.  H.  Van  Dyke  (a  collateral  de- 
scendant of  the  great  Sir  Anthony).  In  Altdorfer's  picture 
the  rose-crowned  Virgin  is  about  to  bathe  Jesus  in  a  foun- 
tain. He  is  dipping  His  hand  in  the  water,  and  a  little 
angel  is  swimming  to  meet  Him.  In  Cranach's  picture 
twelve  little  angels  are  dancing  round  the  Virgin  and 
Child,  and  two  others  up  in  a  tree  are  destroying  some 
young  birds  in  a  nest  —  perhaps  meant  for  an  eagle's  nest. 
The  symbolism  of  this  incident  is  not  very  clear.  Murillo's 
picture  in  the  Hermitage  at  St.  Petersburg  has  all  his  su- 
perficial qualities.  It  is  peaceful,  but  commonplace.  He 
treated  the  subject  five  times  at  least. 

1  See  Gospel  of  Matthew,  xviii.-xxix.  ;  Arab.  Gospel  of  the  Infancy, 
XII. -XXV. ;  B.  H.  Cowper,  The  Apocryphal  Gospels,  pp.  56-64,  178-191 ; 
Hofniann,  pp.  140-183.  These  legends  further  tell  us  that  the  dragons 
came  and  bowed  to  Him  ;  the  roses  of  Jericho  blossomed  wherever  His 
footsteps  trod ;  Dysmas  and  his  fellow-robbers  were  overawed  by  His 
majesty  ;  and  many  wonderful  cures  of  leprosy  and  demoniac  possession 
were  wrought  by  His  word.  We  have  in  the  National  Gallery  an  early 
Flemish  Flight  into  Egypt,  by  Joachim  Patinir  (about  1520),  and  a 
Biposo  by  Pietro  Mola,  of  the  later  Electic  School  of  Bologna  (about 
1660),  in  which  angels  hover  over  the  sleeping  Child. 


THE  MASSACRE   OF   THE   IXXOCENTS.  265 

The  Rest  of  the  Holy  Family  on  the  road  to  Egypt,  which 
the  Italians  call  a  Riposo,  has  been  often  painted.  The 
most  famous  example  is  Correggio's  Madonna  della  Scodella 
at  Parma.  It  is  called  from  the  Scodella,  or  Metal  Dish,  in 
the  hands  of  the  Virgin,  —  the  dish  being  the  arms  of  the 
Scodellari  family,  for  whom  the  picture  was  painted.  It 
is  a  lovely  picture,  full  of  dreamy  enchantment,  but  wholly 
meaningless.  St.  Joseph  is  bending  down  the  branch  of 
a  palm ;  an  angel  on  one  side  is  tethering  the  very  ill- 
painted  ass.  A  sweet  child-figure  on  the  other  side  bends 
over  the  fountain.  His  hair  is  wreathed  with  a  leafy 
garland,  and  he  is  not  an  angel,  but  a  sort  of  little  genius 
of  the  spring.  In  the  sky,  on  the  lumpy  blue  clouds,  — 
for  Correggio  is  incomparably  inferior  to  Garofalo  (for 
instance)  in  his  clouds,  —  a  rush  of  foreshortened  angels  — 
which,  like  those  of  Correggio,  too  often,  chiefly  shew  their 
arms  and  legs,  —  is  careering  in  an  opposite  direction,  with 
no  particular  concern  in  the  scene  below.1  Yet  all  is 
redeemed  by  the  landscape,  and  by  the  exquisite  attitude 
of  the  Child  Jesus,  one  of  whose  hands  rests  on  that  of 
Joseph,  while  the  other  points  to  the  Scodella.  A  charm- 
ing picture,  no  doubt,  for  the  Scodellari  to  possess,  but 
there  is  nothing  sacred  in  it,  and  to  turn  from  it  to  the 
Madonnas  of  Francia  or  Cima,  which  hang  near  it, — 
especially  Francia's  Madonna  di  San  Vitale,  —  is  like  turn- 
ing from  outward  earthly  beauty  to  beauty  irradiated  by 
Heaven.  Correggio  was  infinitely  more  at  home  with  the 
radiant,  lovely,  enchanting  Putti  in  the  Camera  di  San 
Paolo  of  the  gay  Abbess  who  desired  to  be  painted  by  him 
as  Diana. 

The  Flight  into  Egypt  has  been  a  favourite  religious 

1  This,  however,  is  an  allusion  to  the  legend  about  the  palm  which 
bent  its  boughs  to  give  dates  to  the  Holy  Family.  Jesus,  in  the  Apocry- 
phal History  of  the  Nativity  of  Mary,  thanks  the  tree,  and  gives  it  the 
privilege  "that  one  of  thy  branches  be  carried  away  by  my  angels  and 
planted  in  the  Paradise  of  my  Father.  And  this  blessing  will  I  confer 
upon  thee,  that  it  shall  be  said  of  all  who  conquer  in  any  contest,  '  You 
have  won  the  palm  of  victory.'  " 


266  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

subject  among  the  few  chosen  by  the  artists  of  our  own 
day.  Overbeck  painted  it  in  his  sincere,  but  somewhat 
feebly  pietistic  manner.  Lagardo  shows  us  a  drooping 
Virgin  and  a  weary  Joseph  with  a  sleeping  Child  —  "a 
poor  little  household  wandering  over  a  trackless  waste." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  picture  by  Luc  Olivier  Meeson  is 
highly  imaginative.  It  is  called  In  the  Shadoiv  of  Isis,  and 
was  painted  not  many  years  ago.  The  Virgin,  with  her 
sleeping  Child  tenderly  folded  in  her  arms,  is  seated  at  the 
angle  of  a  ruined  temple  of  Isis.  Her  head  is  encircled 
by  a  round  nimbus,  and  the  Child's  by  a  radiating  nimbus. 
They  are  seated  on  the  shattered  colossal  head  of  some 
fallen  Egyptian  idol.  On  the  wall  of  the  temple  we  see 
the  sculptured  bas-relief  of  the  Divine  Egyptian  Mother, 
Hathor  or  Isis,  with  the  half-moon  on  her  head;  she  is 
giving  suck  to  Thoth.  The  lotus  of  life,  and  other  sym- 
bols, are  visible  on  the  wall,  and  the  cat-headed  Pasht, 
and  another  deity,  bend  low  before  Isis.  The  Virgin  is 
gazing  up  at  the  sculpture  with  a  look  of  intense  curiosity 
and  awe.  On  the  other  side,  Eastern-fashion,  outstretched 
on  his  abbeyeh  on  the  bare  ground,  lies  Joseph,  asleep  from 
weariness,  while  the  poor  ass  is  vainly  trying  to  allay  its 
hunger  on  the  scanty  herbage  which  sprouts  only  here  and 
there  around  the  desert  ruin. 

Rossetti's  Flight  into  Egypt,  is  a  water-colour  picture, 
painted  in  1862.  "  The  Holy  Family  are  being  led  away 
by  one  angel,  while  another  is  closing  a  door,  through 
which  can  be  seen  the  slaughter  of  the  children." 

"For  epic  completeness,  for  concentrated  presentation 
of  the  subject  treated  in  the  single  survey  the  painter  can 
command,  Art  can  show  little  indeed  to  equal  this  small 
water-colour  drawing.  How  familiar  we  have  been  made 
on  the  one  side  with  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  from 
Giotto's  monumental  treatment,  down  to  Tintoret's  wild 
tornado  of  wolfish  mercenaries,  with  desperate  mothers  and 
slaughtered  babes ;  and,  on  the  other,  with  dark  flights  by 
night  of  Joseph  with  the  Virgin  Mother  and  Child  into 


THE  MASSACRE   OF   THE   IXXOCENTS.  267 

Egypt  upon  an  ass.  Rossetti's  imaginative  vision  suffers 
no  such  divided  sight  of  subjects.  All  is  present  before 
him,  and  he  will  shew  you  all ;  you  shall  understand 
wherefore  this  slaughter  and  this  flight,  with  its  spiritual 
significance.  Not  of  their  own  will  they  flee,  for  an  angel 
with  firm  strides  bearing  a  palm  branch  held  sword-wise 
for  defence,  leads  forth  by  the  hand  that  quivering  woman, 
through  whose  heart  the  clash  of  the  murderous  steel 
pierces  in  anticipation,  as  she  huddles  her  Child  in  the 
folds  of  her  mantle.  It  is  the  Virgin  Mother;  for  the 
mystic  sign  of  the  Spirit  guides  their  way  in  peace  far 
from  the  jealousy  of  the  tyrant,  of  whose  bloody  work  we 
catch  one  glance,  ere  another  angel  shuts  the  vain  wrath 
within  its  bounds  of  restraint,  as  he  closes  the  Gate  against 
all  pursuit.  The  terrors  of  that  night  of  warning  are 
behind,  but  the  New  Day  gleams  over  the  dark  hills,  san- 
guine with  the  portent  of  sorrow  yet  ordained  to  be  con- 
summated in  the  blood  of  the  Innocent  One." 1 

Mr.  Edwin  Long's  Anno  Domini  is  an  elaborate  render- 
ing of  the  actual  arrival  in  Egypt.  In  the  distance  are 
the  Pyramids  bathed  in  the  evening  glow.  Not  far  from 
them  is  a  magnificent  Egyptian  temple,  of  which  the  gor- 
geous mural  decorations  represent  the  weighing  of  souls 
before  the  tribunal  of  Osiris.  Out  of  the  gate  of  its  Pylon 
sweeps  a  grand  procession,  military  and  ecclesiastical,  in 
which  Apis,  the  sacred  bull,  is  led  forth  by  his  attendants. 
A  little  further  on  we  see  the  sacred  Ark,  the  bearers  of 
idols,  and  the  Priests  of  Osiris,  Horus  and  Thoth.  In 
front  walks  the  High  Priest  of  Isis,  in  a  leopard's  skin, 
with  gilded  claws,  bearing  an  Egyptian  thurible  full  of 
kyphi,  and  a  vase  for  libation.  The  priests  wear  golden 
bracelets  and  jewelled  necklaces,  and  are  clad  in  snow- 
white  linen,  plaited  and  goffered.  The  multitudes  adore 
the  image  of  Isis  as  it  is  carried  past  them,  headed  by  the 
band  of  female  minstrels,  who  wear  on  their  foreheads  the 
blue  lotus  of  the  Nile,  and  strike  their  timbrels  and  sistra. 

1  F.  Shields. 


268  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

In  the  crowd,  a  lover  is  fastening  round  the  neck  of  his 
betrothed  the  amulet  known  as  "  the  eye  of  Osiris."  A 
negro  offers  for  sale  a  tray  of  Egyptian  gods,  Isis,  Osiris,. 
Apis,  Pasht,  and  Thoth.  With  these  idols,  some  girls  are 
trying  to  cure  a  sick  child.  In  an  opposite  direction  comes 
the  Holy  Family,  humble  and  travel-soiled.  The  Virgin 
is  seated  upon  an  ass.  She  is  robed  in  a  dress  of  dark 
blue  linen,  embroidered  in  front,  such  as  is  still  used  at 
Bethlehem,  and  such  as  was,  in  all  probability,  worn  by 
the  humble  maiden  of  Nazareth.  By  her  side,  with  his 
staff  and  gourd,  walks  her  husband,  Joseph,  whose  face 
is  full  of  anxious  and  careworn  solemnity,  and  who,  with 
one  hand,  is  tenderly  folding  the  Child's  robe  a  little  closer 
around  Him. 

The  face  of  the  Virgin  is  one  of  exquisite  beauty  and 
purity.  A  little  in  front  of  her  lie  two  beautiful,  undraped 
Egyptian  children,  who  (like  the  negro)  have  gods  for 
sale,  and  one  of  whom  holds  up  to  the  Virgin  an  image  of 
Pasht,  the  goddess  of  purity.  But  the  eyes  of  the  Virgin 
are  not  attracted  by  these  children ;  her  glance  rests  with 
tender  pity  on  the  despairing  mother  and  her  dying  child, 
for  whom  the  idols  are  of  no  avail.  This  circumstance  is 
suggested  by  the  legend  that,  when  the  Holy  Family 
entered  Egypt,  the  Virgin  took  in  her  arms  a  sick  child, 
who  was  thus  restored  to  health.  The  child  grew  up  to  be 
a  robber,  and  is  identified  with  the  repentant  thief  upon 
the  cross,  who  bears,  in  tradition,  the  name  of  Dysmas. . 

The  face  of  the  Child  Jesus  wears  a  grave  and  heavenly 
look,  in  which  childish  innocence  seems  to  be  subtly 
blended  with  something  deeper  and  more  divine. 

All  the  details  of  the  picture  have  been  studied  and 
rendered  with  consummate  care,  and  the  intention  is 
humbly  reverential. 

Far  greater,  however,  as  a  work  of  genius,  is  the  famous 
Triumph  of  the  Innocents,  by  Mr.  Holman  Hunt,  exhibited 
in  1888.  Following  the  traditions  of  the  Eastern  Church, 
Mr.  Hunt  supposes  the  Flight  to  take  place  in  the  second 


^ 

k 


THE  MASSACRE   OF   THE  IXXOCEXTS.  269 

April  of  the  life  of  the  Holy  Child.  The  Holy  Family 
have  fled  by  bypaths  over  the  mountains,  and  have  now 
descended  into  the  corn-fields  of  a  rich  and  balmy  plain. 
Joseph,  whose  back  is  turned  to  the  spectator,  and  who 
has  his  basket  of  tools  over  his  shoulder,  is  leading  an  ass, 
which  is  painted  from  one  of  the  famous  Mecca  breed. 
He  gazes  back  in  anxiety  at  the  line  of  watchfires  which 
show  that  Herod's  soldiers  are  on  the  alert.  The  Virgin 
is  dressing  her  Child,  who  has  been  snatched  up  in  haste. 
There  has  been  deep  anguish  in  her  look,  but  peace  and 
hope  are  beginning  to  dawn  upon  it.  The  noble  Child  in 
her  arms  is  turning  to  call  her  attention  to  the  glorified 
spirits  of  the  Martyred  Innocents,  towards  whom  He  points 
with  the  corn-ears  —  type  of  the  Bread  of  Life l  —  held  in 
His  little  hands.2  His  face  breaks  into  a  glow  of  joy  to 
recognize  once  more  the  throng  of  His  little  playmates, 
visible  to  Him  in  a  spiritual  light,  which  makes  the  wild 
dogs  shrink  away  in  terror  in  the  distance.  They  are  being 
borne  along  upon  streams  of  living  water  which  breaks 
into  globe-like  bubbles,  in  which  are  imaged  various 
typical  scenes  of  Messianic  prophecy  and  fulfilment.  The 
front  group  of  the  little  Martyrs  has  now  recognized  the 
new  beatitude,  and  the  leading  child  holds  a  thurible  of 
kindled  incense,  while  the  others  scatter  flowers  before  the 
feet  of  their  Infant  King.  The  midmost  group  of  children 
is  garlanded  with  flowers.  They  carry  in  their  hands  the 
branches  of  blossoming  trees,  but  have  not  yet  fully  real- 

1  So  in  a  Virgin  and  Child,  by  Giovanni  da  Pisa  (at  the  New  Gallery  in 
1894),  the  Child  holds  an  ear  of  millet  in  His  right  hand. 

2  Perhaps  there  may  be  a  slight  reference  also  to  the  legend  that,  in 
the  Flight,  the  Holy  Family  passed  through  corn-fields,  and  the  Virgin 
asked  the  husbandman  to  say  that  if  any  one  asked  "  when  the  Son  of 
Man  passed  by,"  they  should  answer,  "  When  we  were  sowing  this  corn." 
The  same  night  the  corn  sprang  up  and  ripened,  and  next  morning  they 
were  reaping  it.    They  gave  the  answer  to  the  soldiers  of  Herod,  who 
turned  back,  thinking  that  pursuit  was  useless.     Hans  Memlinc  intro- 
duces these   husbandmen   into   his  picture   in  the   Munich  Pinakothek 
(about  1480.     See  W.  H.  I.  Weale,  Hans  Hemline,  p.  10). 


270  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

ized  their  state.  One  of  them  gazes  down  at  the  rent 
which  the  sword-thrust  has  made  in  his  dress,  but  is  amazed 
to  find  no  corresponding  wound  upon  his  glorified  body. 
Behind,  in  the  sky,  are  three  of  the  poor  Innocents  who 
have  not  yet  awakened  to  the  bliss  of  heaven,  and  still 
bear  upon  their  faces  the  expression  of  grief  or  sleep. 
Near  them  float  shadows  as  of  starry  crowns.  The  picture 
unites  the  deepest  mysticism  with  the  most  intense  realism, 
and  its  glorious  colouring  and  majestic  thought  led  Mr. 
Ruskin  to  call  it  "the  greatest  religious  picture  of  our 
time."  He  said  "that  not  even  Donatelli  or  the  Delia 
Robbias  at  their  best,  could  more  than  rival  the  freedom 
and  felicity  of  motion,  or  the  subtlety  of  harmonious  line, 
in  the  happy  wreath  of  the  angel  children."  l 

1  The  picture  is  reproduced  in  Harper's  Magazine,  December,  1889 ; 
and  in  the  Christmas  number  of  the  Art  Journal  for  1893.  Dante  Eossetti 
said  of  one  of  Mr.  Hunt's  pictures  that  "the  solemn  human  soul  seems 
to  vibrate  through  it  like  a  bell  in  a  forest." 


III. 

THE   RETURN  TO   NAZARETH. 


"Bud  forth  as  a  rose  growing  by  a  brook  of  the  field." — Ecclus. 
xxxix.  13. 


IT  might  have  been  thought  that  the  Return  of  the  Holy 
Family  to  Nazareth  was  an  idyllic  scene  which  would  have 
inspired  many  an  artist's  pencil.  It  is,  however,  scarcely 
ever  represented.  There  is  not  one  picture  of  it  in  Fleury, 
though  his  illustrations  go  down  to  the  thirteenth  century ; 
nor  is  a  single  specimen  given  by  Rosini  in  his  Storia 
della  Pittura.  Indeed,  almost  the  only  picture  which  I 
can  remember  is  a  recent  one  by  Mr.  Dobson,  some  of 
whose  religious  pictures  recall  the  sweet  expressiveness  of 
Fra  Angelico.  It  was  painted  in  1857,  and  was  a  beautiful 
specimen  of  purist  painting.  Mr.  Ruskin  criticised  it  as 
"  very  tender  in  expression,  but  commonplace ;  and  in  gen- 
eral idea  more  or  less  false  or  improbable."  Nor  has  the 
actual  Home  of  Nazareth  been  often  painted.  Practically, 
however,  this  is  the  subject  of  one  of  Albrecht  Diirer's 
loveliest  and  most  characteristic  designs  in  the  Life  of  the 
Virgin,  though  he  somewhat  strangely  chose  to  call  it  a 
Repose  in  Egypt.  The  supposed  scene  is  Matarea,  near 
Cairo,  where  the  Virgin's  Fountain  and  sycamore  are  still 
shewn.  In  describing  it  I  shall  partly  borrow  the  aid  of 
Professor  Thausing.  In  an  open  courtyard,  in  which  are 
cocks  and  hens,  and  from  which  is  seen  a  hill,  crowned 
with  towers,  Joseph  stands  at  work  at  his  carpentering, 
and  is  hollowing  out  a  trough.  The  chips  of  wood  are 

271 


272 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX  ART. 


being  playfully  collected  in  a  basket  by  boy-angels,  one  of 
whom  has  roguishly  set  the  master's  hat  upon  his  little 


The  Repose  in  Egypt.     (Diirer.) 


head,  and  another  puts  a  long  splinter  to  his  mouth  as 
though  it  were  a  trumpet.     Two  of  them  behind  Joseph 


THE   RETURN   TO   NAZARETH.  273 

are  amusing  themselves  with  a  windmill,  and  the  little 
comrades  run  along  the  edge  of  the  saw-pit  holding  each 
other  by  the  hand.  Joseph  himself  is  just  pausing  from 
his  toil.  He  gazes  thoughtfully,  axe  in  hand,  at  the 
group  formed  by  the  young  Mother  and  the  Child  as  she 
sits  happy  with  her  distaff  and  spindle,  and  rocks  the 
cradle.  Angels  press  round  them  with  interest,  and  admire 
Mary's  work,  while  one  brings  her  flowers.  St.  Elizabeth 
and  the  young  Baptist  sit  close  beside  her,  and  the  little 
John  is  looking  into  the  tiny  face  of  the  Babe  in  its 
cradle.  In  the  heavens  appears  a  half  figure  of  God  the 
Father  in  the  attitude  of  blessing,  with  the  Dove  beneath 
Him.  It  is  a  picture  of  holy  labour  and  of  the  purest 
domestic  bliss,  a  bliss  which  compensates  the  poor  exiles 
even  for  their  home.  All  through  his  Life  of  the  Virgin, 
Diirer  has  touched  very  powerfully  one  chord  of  domestic 
feeling.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  apotheosis  of  family  life  with 
the  whole  fulness  of  the  Divine  approval  outpoured  upon 
it.  In  it  the  painter  preaches  the  new  ethics  that  Luther 
afterwards  declared  in  joyful  accents  to  his  fellow-country- 
men when  he  said  that  "  marriage  was  the  most  excellent 
state  on  earth,"  and  that  there  existed  "  no  companionship 
more  full  of  love,  of  friendship,  and  of  bliss  than  a  happy 
wedded  life."1 

One  of  Murillo's  best  pictures  is  the  Holy  Family  known 
as  El  Pajarito,  from  the  goldfinch  which  the  Child  Jesus 
holds  in  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  He  plays  with  a 
little  white  dog.  The  Virgin  has  been  spinning,  St. 
Joseph  has  been  planing  wood,  but  both  have  paused  in 
their  work  to  contemplate  the  scene. 

But  the  shop  of  the  carpenter  seems  to  be,  on  the  whole, 
a  modern  subject.  The  two  conspicuous  instances  of  it, 
which  at  once  present  themselves  to  the  memory,  are  an 

1  Thausing,  I.  333.  A  pillar  of  rude  and  curious  construction  is 
copied  from  one  in  the  hall  of  Diirer's  house.  Heaton,  125.  Compare 
the  catalogues  of  Birtsch  and  Heller  and  Eye's,  Leben  Albrecht  Diirem, 
286,  319;  W.  Schmidt,  A.  Diirer  (Dohme,  p.  20). 

T 


274  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

early  work  of  Sir  John  Millais,  and  Holman  Hunt's  The 
Shadow  of  Death.1 

Sir  J.  E.  Millais'  picture,  which  we  here  reproduce,  has 
all  the  charm  and  seriousness  which  marked  the  works  of 
the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood.  It  is  one  of  the  painter's 
earliest  works,  but  it  is  one  which  would  have  delighted 
Botticelli  or  Fra  Bartolommeo.  It  represents  a  carpenter's 
shop,  along  which  run  large  trestles  with  rough  planks 
upon  them.  At  one  end  of  it  St.  Joseph  has  been  labour- 
ing; at  the  other,  a  fine  youth,  presumably  one  of  the 
brethren  of  the  Lord,  continues  his  work  with  unsympa- 
thetic indifference.  Jesus,  a  young  boy,  has  wounded  His 
hand  on  a  large  projecting  nail,  which  an  aged  woman, 
intended  probably  for  St.  Anna,  who  stands  on  the  further 
side  of  the  table,  has  been  trying  to  pull  out  with  a  pair 
of  pincers.  The  Virgin,  seeing  the  wound,  which  is  in  the 
centre  of  the  palm  of  the  right  hand,  has  come  forward  in 
deep  anxiety,  and  has  thrust  her  arm  through  the  Child's 
left  arm  while  she  is  impressing  upon  His  cheek  an  ago- 
nized kiss.  She  is  very  simply  dressed  in  a  dark  coloured 
robe  with  a  white  coif  which  covers  her  head,  and  her 
expression,  apart  from  the  momentary  distress,  is  worn 
and  almost  haggard.  Joseph  has  leant  forward,  and  is 
resting  one  hand  on  the  Child's  shoulder,  while  with  the 
other  he  bends  back  His  hand  to  look  at  the  wound,  from 
which  a  drop  of  blood  has  fallen  on  the  instep  of  His  foot. 
The  wound  in  the  hand  and  the  blood-drop  on  the  foot 
foreshadow  two  of  the  Five  Wounds  which  were  to  come. 
An  exquisitely  beautiful  child  with  dark  curly  hair,  who 
wears  round  his  loins  a  strip  of  camel's  skin,  is  perhaps 
intended  for  the  youthful  Baptist.  He  is  coming  round 
the  table  Avith  a  metal  basin  of  water  to  wash  the  wound. 
He  wears  an  expression  of  anxious  and  loving  sympathy. 

1  The  Pre-Raphaelite  school  had  "  a  total  originality  in  the  sternly  ma- 
terialistic though  deeply  reverent  veracity,  with  which  alone  of  all  schools 
of  painters  this  brotherhood  of  Englishmen  has  conceived  the  circum- 
stances of  the  Life  of  Christ."  —  lluskin,  Art  of  England,  p.  109- 


THE   RETURN   TO  NAZARETH.  275 

The  Holy  Child  Himself  is  barefooted,  and  is  clad  in  a 
seamless  tunic  which  He  is  holding  back  with  one  hand  to 
prevent  it  from  being  stained.  He  has  a  soft,  gentle,  but 
almost  effeminate  beauty,  more  winning  perhaps  than  that 
of  the  other  boy,  but  far  less  virile.1  All  the  accessories 
are  symbolic.  A  dove  broods  on  the  rung  of  a  ladder, 
which  rests  against  the  wall.  Through  the  open  window 
some  wandering  sheep  of  an  untended  herd  are  looking  in 
as  though  searching  for  their  shepherd.  The  shavings  on 
the  floor  recall  the  rude  outline  of  a  Latin  cross.  The 
motto  of  the  picture  is  from  Zechariah  xiii.  1.  "And 
one  shall  say  unto  Him,  what  are  these  wounds  in  Thine 
hands?  Then  He  shall  answer,  those  with  which  I  was 
wounded  in  the  house  of  My  friends."  The  verse,  it  need 
hardly  be  said,  is  only  a  distant  symbolic  application,  —  a 
sort  of  Christian  targum  on  the  words  of  the  ancient 
prophecy,  not  unlike  some  of  those  which  we  find  in  St. 
Matthew's  Gospel.  In  the  original,  they  have  no  reference 
whatever  to  Christ,  but  involve  a  widely  different,  and 
indeed  wholly  unconnected,  connotation.2 

Mr.  Holman  Hunt's  Shadow  of  Death  (1876)  is  more 
recent,  and,  having  been  painted  in  the  maturity  of  the 
artist's  powers,  is  better  known.  It  is  one  of  the  very 
few  pictures  in  which  Art  has  tried  to  answer  the  question, 
"  Is  not  this  the  Carpenter  ?"  So  far  as  I  know,  there  was 
not  one  ancient  or  mediaeval  picture  which  represented 
Jesus  as  a  young  man  exercising  in  the  village  of  Nazareth 
that  humble  trade  by  which  He  glorified  all  labour.  Mr. 
Hunt  alone  has  yielded  to  the  impulse  of  his  own  strong 
and  simple  faith,  by  painting  "the  Lord  of  Time  and  All 
the  Worlds,"  earning  His  daily  bread  as  a  Galilean  artisan. 

1  "  Millais  sees  a  young  Christ  in  the  delicate  boy  with  the  wounded 
hand  in  the  dreary  and  comfortless  carpenter's  shop.    Hunt  sees  a  cru- 
cified Christ  in  the  tired  workman,  overtasked  in  the  calm  sunset."  — 
E.  "Wood,  D.  G.  Rossetti,  p.  201. 

2  Zech.  xiii.  1.     It  is  part  of  a  passage  which  refers  to  wounds  in- 
flicted upon  themselves  by  false  prophets,  which,  in  the  subsequent  ill- 
repute  of  such  pretenders,  they  are  anxious  to  explain  away. 


276 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 


He  has  represented  Jesus  in  His  Humanity,  accepting  the 
common  lot  of  the  vast  majority  of  the  human  race.  He 
wears  no  nimbus  or  aureole,  but  is  weary  at  eventide  after 


The  Shadow  of  Death.    (W.  Holman  Hunt.) 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  T.  Agnew  A-  Sons. 


long  hours  of  manual  toil.     Leaving  the  saw  in  its  plank, 
He  uplifts  His  arms  to  utter  the  Shemah,  the  evening 


THE  RETURN   TO   NAZARETH.  277 

prayer.  His  eyes  are  turned  heavenwards,  His  lips  are 
opened  in  supplication.  The  Virgin  is  kneeling  at  His 
right.  Contrasting  the  humble  realities  of  the  present 
with  the  splendid  omens  of  the  past,  she  is  fondly  opening 
the  gleaming  pearly  coffer  which  contains  the  gifts  of  the 
Magi,  —  a  golden  crown  and  bowls,  and  an  incense-burner 
of  green  enamel.  But  suddenly  glancing  up  she  has  caught 
sight  of  a  shadow  on  the  wall,  and,  though  her  back  is 
turned  to  the  spectator,  the  sudden  arrest  of  attention 
expressed  by  her  attitude  shews  her  awe-stricken  alarm. 
For  what  she  sees  is  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  the 
shadow  of  a  Death  by  Crucifixion.  On  the  wall  behind 
Jesus,  the  rack  and  tools  are  so  arranged  as  to  give  the 
semblance  of  a  cross,  and  on  this  cross  is  shewn  His  shadow 
as  He  stands  with  His  arms  outstretched.  In  this  picture, 
then,  we  have  an  epitome  of  the  Life  of  Jesus.  The  gifts 
of  the  Magi  recall  His  Infancy ;  the  carpenter's  shop, 
His  Youth  and  Manhood ;  the  shadow,  His  awful  Sacri- 
fice. The  clouds  of  Golgotha  throw  their  darkness  and 
their  sunset-crimson  on  the  golden  mists  of  Bethlehem  and 
the  holy  innocence  of  Nazareth. 

"  That  Shadow  dear  upon  the  wall, 
Where  level  rays  of  evening  fall, 

And  bid  us  view  the  Lord  uprear 

His  tired  arms  in  the  Sunset  clear  — 
Let  it  console  us,  not  appal ; 
That  Shadow  has  a  voice  for  all 
Whom  other  shadows  may  enthral; 

It  soothes  away  our  mortal  fear, 

That  Shadow  dear."  * 

As  another  modern  illustration,  we  may  mention  Rossetti's 
unfinished  water-colour,  The  Passover  in  the  Holy  Family, 
in  the  Ruskin  Drawing  School  at  Oxford,  —  another  salient 

1H.  Wilton.  It  is  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  painter's  high  and  rev- 
erent determination  that  he  spent  four  years  at  Nazareth  and  Bethlehem 
to  make  accurate  studies  for  this  great  picture.  But  to  him  "  the  story 
of  the  New  Testament  is  not  merely  a  Keality,  not  merely  the  greatest  of 
Eealities,  but  the  only  Reality." 


278  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

example  of  his  imaginative  originality.  In  the  background, 
slightly  sketched  in  pencil,  are  discernible  the  figures  of 
Joseph  and  Anna  kindling  the  fire  to  roast  the  newly  slain 
Paschal  Lamb.  Central  in  the  picture,  standing  against 
the  vine-clad  doorpost  of  the  lowly  home,  is  the  Boy 
Saviour,  clad  in  a  long  tunic  of  crimson,  His  eyes  fixed 
in  mysterious  foreboding  as  He  holds  a  bowl  filled  with 
the  blood  of  the  spotless  victim  from  which  Zacharias 
sprinkles  the  lintel  with  a  bunch  of  hyssop.  The  Virgin 
Mother,  her  face  of  the  most  tender  and  pensive  loveli- 
ness, stoops  to  gather  the  bitter  herbs,  and  the  youthful 
Forerunner  kneels  at  the  feet  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  humbly 
binding  His  shoe's  latchet.  Within  the  house  is  seen  the 
spread  table,  with  the  wine  and  the  unleavened  bread  set 
in  order  for  the  Social  Supper.1 

i  F.  Shields. 


IV. 

THE  BOY  CHRIST. 

"Now,  in  the  month  of  Adar,  Jesus  assembled  the  boys,  as  if  He  were 
their  King ;  they  strewed  their  garments  upon  the  ground  and  He  sat 
upon  them.  Then  they  put  upon  His  head  a  crown  wreathed  of  flowers, 
and  like  attendants  waiting  upon  a  king,  they  stood  in  order  before  Him." 
—  Arab  Gospel  of  the  Infancy,  XLI. 

"Imagination  will  find  its  holiest  work  in  the  lighting  up  of  the  Gos- 
pels." —  RUSKIN. 

THE  Apocryphal  Gospels  supply  us  with  multitudes  of 
legends,  or  rather  inventions,  respecting  the  childhood  and 
boyhood  of  Christ.  But  to  invent  anecdotes  respecting 
Christ  is  inevitably  to  degrade  Him.  The  human  imagi- 
nation is  too  impure  to  add  anything  to  the  Holy  Ideal 
of  the  Divine.  Its  dimmed  and  roughened  mirror  may, 
indeed,  reflect  sparks  from  the  unemptiable  fountain  of  the 
Eternal  Light ;  but  it  cannot  originate  one  colour  or  one 
gleam  which  does  not  distort  or  mar.  There  can  be  no 
more  striking  evidence  of  the  veracity  of  the  Gospels 
than  the  fact  that  where  they  have  nothing  to  tell  us,  they 
tell  us  nothing.  They  are  silent  as  to  all  that  occurred  in 
the  life  of  Christ  till  He  was  twelve  years  old.  After  the 
incidents  of  the  Infancy,  they  knew  no  facts,  and  there- 
fore they  recorded  none.  They  present  to  us  simply  in 
barest  outline  the  exquisite  picture  of  a  childhood  in- 
creasing, by  strictly  human  development,  in  wisdom,  and 
stature,  and  in  favour  with  God  and  man.  We  know  only 
that  Jesus  gradually  advanced  in  wisdom,  and  grew  up  as 
other  children  grow,  only  in  stainless  and  sinless  beauty, 
"  as  the  flower  of  roses  in  the  Spring  of  the  year,  and  as 
lilies  by  the  waters." 

279 


280  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

The  Christians  who  wrote  the  Apocryphal  Gospels  were 
not  sufficiently  instructed  in  reverence  to  abstain  from 
filling  up  the  interspaces  of  the  eloquent  silence  of  the 
Evangelists.  To  them  it  seemed  intolerable  that  one 
anecdote  —  the  Scene  in  the  Temple  when  Christ  became 
"a  Son  of  the  Law"1 — and  one  word,  "the  carpenter"  — 
should  be  all  that  remains  to  tell  us  of  the  years  when  the 
brightness  of  the  Divine  Nature  dwelt  "in  a  tent  like 
ours,  and  of  the  same  material."  They  were  not  content 
to  believe  as  the  Evangelists  implied  by  their  holy  reti- 
cence, that,  during  those  long  years  of  humblest  obscurity 
in  the  peasant  home  of  the  despised  village  of  the  despised 
province,  the  Son  of  God  lived  and  laboured  unnoticed 
and  unknown.  They  could  not  persuade  themselves  to 
leave  untouched  the  "  sinless  years  which  breathed  beneath 
the  Syrian  blue."  They  therefore  indulged  in  endless 
inventions,  and  there  is  scarcely  one  of  those  inventions 
which  does  not  tend  to  blur  or  obliterate  the  true  image. 

The  unrecorded,  uneventful  boyhood  and  youth  of  the 
Son  of  Man  correspond  to  the  divine  ideal  of  prophecy  — 
"  He  shall  grow  up  before  Him  as  a  tender  plant  and  as  a 
root  out  of  a  dry  ground."  It  corresponds  with  the  de- 
scription, "He  made  Himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took 
upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant." 

There  are  not  many  traces  in  Art  that  much  attention 
was  paid  to  the  more  worthless  of  the  Apocryphal  Hagga- 
doth,  which  misinterpret  and  dishonour  the  early  years  of 
the  Son  of  God.  I  remember  no  pictures  of  Him  carrying 
the  spilt  water  in  His  robe  ;  or  pulling  the  short  board 
to  the  requisite  length ; 2  or  moulding  sparrows  of  clay  and 
making  them  fly ;  or  drawing  webs  of  many  colours  out 
of  one  dyer's  vat ;  or  striking  dead  with  a  curse  a  comrade 
who  had  risen  against  Him.3  In  Giovanni  Bellini's  very 

1 1  still  hold  the  view  that  this  was  the  period  of  Christ's  life  intended 
by  the  Evangelist. 

2  Unless  it  be  Annibale  Carracci's  picture  in  the  Louvre. 

3  These  false  incidents  are  all  narrated  in  the  Gospel  of  the  Infancy 


THE   BOY  CHRIST. 


281 


obscure  "allegory"  at  Venice,  there  may  be  an  allusion 
to  His  making  a  tree  grow  up  and  giving  the  fruit  to  His 
companions.  But  no  one  has  painted  the  one  pretty  scene 
in  the  Arabic  Gospel  of  the  Infancy,1  in  which  the  boys 
crown  Him  with  flowers  and  wait  upon  Him  as  a  king,  on 
the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  and  make  the  passers-by 
come  up  and  adore  Him.  There  was  a  sketch  of  this  as 
frontispiece  to  an  early  number  of  a  small  artistic  maga- 
zine, published,  I  think,  by  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  and  now 
extremely  rare. 


The  Boy  Christ.     (Luini.) 

Nor  have  there  been  many  efforts  to  depict  the  Boy 
Christ.  I  give  two.  One  is  by  Bernardino  Luini,  from 
the  Ambrosiana  at  Milan.  The  features  are  regular  and 

and  Gospel  of  Pseudo-Matthew.    See  B.    Harris  Cowper,  Apocr.  and 
Gospels,  pp.  64,  67,  68,  73,  79,  203,  etc. 
i  Cap.  XLI. 


282 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 


beautiful,  the  eyes  are  large,  dark,  and  serious.  The  long, 
straight  locks  are  traditionally  parted  in  the  middle,  the 
mouth  is  somewhat  large,  but  full  of  serious  sweetness, 
and  the  picture  rises  far  above  naturalism.  It  is  a  reverent 


The  Boy  Christ.     (Cesare  da  Sesto.) 


endeavour  to  shadow  forth  the  Divine  that  lay  behind  the 
human  environment.  The  youthful  face  is  translucent 
with  a  beauty  which  is  above  all  ordinary  beauty,  because 
it  breathes  of  heaven. 


THE   BOY   CHRIST. 


283 


Far  different  is  the  singularly  lovely  Boy  Christ  by 
Cesare  da  Sesto.  This  charming  painter  was  one  of  the 
best  pupils  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  but  afterwards  is  believed 
to  have  been  the  friend  and  assistant  of  Raphael  at  Rome. 
The  face  is  almost  faultless  in  its  beauty,  and  indeed  more 
humanly  beautiful  than  the  Boy  Christ  of  Luini ;  but  it  is 
more  feminine,  and,  though  pure  and  earnest,  is  less  haunt- 
ingly  divine.  The  Saviour  is  represented  as  a  boy  with 
long  golden  hair,  and  is  dressed  in  a  red  robe  with  a  white 
tunic.  The  picture  adorns  the  Palazzo  Tosio  at  Brescia. 


The  Boy  Christ.    (Guido  Keni.) 

Guido  Reni's  picture  of  the  Boy  Christ,  embracing  St. 
John,1  has  always  been  extremely  popular ;  but  while  the 
youthful  Baptist  is  beautiful,  the  painter  falls  far  below 
Luini,  and  even  below  Cesare,  in  the  effeminate  prettiness 
which  was  the  highest  ideal  he  could  form  of  the  young 
Christ. 

1  National  Gallery,  No.  191. 


V. 


CHRIST  AMONG  THE   DOCTORS. 


"Better  is  a  wise  child  than  a  foolish  king."  — Eccl.  iv.  13. 
"  This  Child  is  set  for  the  falling  and  rising  up  of  many  in  Israel."  — 
Luke  ii.  34. 

THE  subject  of  the  young  Christ  in  the  Temple  among 
the  Doctors  has  naturally  been  a  very  favourite  one  in  all 
ages. 

The  earliest  certain  specimen  is  a  mosaic  of  the  fifth 
century  in  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  at  Rome, 


although  Ferret  (PI.  XXX.)  gives  one  which  may  be  of 
the  fourth  century,1  and  Martigny  mentions  one  at  St. 
Ambrogio,  Milan,  on  an  ancient  sarcophagus.  In  the 
mosaic  the  Child  has  a  cross  in  the  nimbus  over  His  fore- 

1  Unless  it  be  meant  for  Christ  (represented  as  a  Youth)  teaching  the. 
Apostles. 

284 


CHRIST   AMONG   THE   DOCTORS. 


285 


head.  Two  angels  stand  beside  Him.  Joseph  holds  his 
hand  over  His  head,  while  Mary  stands  in  an  attitude  of 
rapture.  The  faces  of  the  group  of  Rabbis  on  the  other 
side  express  profound  astonishment.1 

In  the  MS.  of  St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  (ninth  century), 
there  is  a  beautiful  and  vigorous  illumination  which  rep- 
resents this  scene.  On  one  side  is  the  fair  Child  on  an 
elevated  chair,  at  the  head  of  a  table,2  on  which  lies  an 
open  book,  and  at  which  six  Rabbis  are  seated.  On  the 


other  side  His  meeting  with  Mary  and  Joseph  is  touch- 
ingly  represented  in  a  manner  which  involuntarily  reminds 
us  of  the  famous  picture  of  Mr.  Holman  Hunt. 

In  many  reproductions  of  this  incident,  too  self-assert- 
ing a  prominence,  unwarranted  by  the  circumstances,  is 
given  to  the  youthful  Saviour.  It  is  not  the  Gospels,  but 
the  Apocrypha,  which  represented  Him  as  confounding 
and  refuting  the  venerable  Jewish  teachers.  The  Gospels 
only  tell  us  that  He  sat  among  them,  probably  on  the 
ground,  "  both  hearing  and  asking  them  questions."  All 


Fleury,  PI.  XXX. 


2  Fleury,  PI.  XXXI.  1. 


286  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

that  heard  Him  were  indeed  "  astonished  at  His  under- 
standing and  answers,"  but  there  is  not  a  syllable  in  the 
narrative  to  indicate  that  He  entered  into  arguments  or 
discussions  which  would  have  been  unsuitable  to  the 
modesty  of  His  youth,  and  the  reverence  which  youth 
should  pay  to  age  and  authority.  We  see  plainly  that  His 
demeanour  was  not  that  of  a  victorious  disputant,  but  that 
of  the  Child  who  went  back  with  His  parents  to  Nazareth, 
and  for  long  years  after  this  was  subject  unto  them ;  that 
of  Him  who  would  neither  strive  nor  cry,  nor  was  His 
voice  heard  in  the  streets.  Diirer's  engraving  falls  into 
the  common  error.  His  Jesus  among  the  Doctors  is  a  mere 
collection  of  figures  in  different  attitudes  expressive  of 
learned  arrogance  and  a  sense  of  superior  knowledge.  The 
deferential  manner  of  Mary  and  Joseph,  as  they  come  upon 
the  scene,  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the  stiff,  unbending 
attitudes  of  the  learned  Rabbis.  "Jesus  sits  on  a  raised 
seat  and  seems  rather  to  be  delivering  a  sermon  than  asking 
questions." 1 

The  fresco  at  Saronno,  in  Santa  Maria  dei  Miracoli,  must 
rank  among  Luini's  loveliest  works.  The  figure  of  Christ 
is  full  of  grace  and  sweetness.2  He  is  represented  stand- 

1  Thausing  I.  333.    Mrs.  Heaton,  125. 

2  The  tendency  in  these  pictures  always  is  to  make  Christ  too  effemi- 
nate, as  in  the  Boccacini  at  Venice,  in  the  Accademia.     Gaudenzio  Fer- 
rari's Christ  among  the  Doctors,  at  Varallo,  is  said  to  be  "perhaps  the 
purest  thing  produced  by  him,  and  almost  Raphaelesque  in  its  mode  of 
narration,"  but  I  have  not  seen  it  recently.    The  young  Christ  is  stand- 
ing on  an  elevated  platform,  and  His  arguments  have  produced  the  pro- 
foundest  astonishment  and  agitation  in  the  minds  of  the  doctors.     At 
the  side,  Joseph  and  the  Virgin  are  entering,  and  she  is  extending  her 
arms  towards  Him  with  a  look  of  yearning  love.     (See  Rosini,  V.  200.) 
There  is  a  large  picture  of  this  scene  by  Pinturicchio  at  Spello  ;  and  by 
Mazzolino  at  Berlin ;  on  the  balustrade  above  he  symbolically  paints  Old 
Testament  Analogies,  like  the  fight  of  David  with  Goliath.     Spagnoletto's 
picture  at  Berlin  is  better  than  most  of  his.     The  Wisdom  of  Jesus,  by 
Lairesse  (of  the  Dutch  School),  is  insipid.      Overbeck's  Christ  in  the 
Temple  is  at  Berlin.     Christ  is  a  beautiful  little  long-haired  child  seated 
on  four  volumes.     The  Scribes  are  all  standing.     Some  of  them  reason 
with  Him  ;  others  consult  their  books. 


CHRIST   AMONG  THE   DOCTORS.  287 

ing  up  in  animated  discourse  in  a  marble  recess,  and 
though  He  is  a  gentle  and  pensive  boy,  His  face  and  atti- 
tude are  full  of  commanding  grace.  The  colours,  as  in  all 
Luini's  pictures,  are  tender,  lovely,  and  most  harmoniously 
blended.  He  has  introduced  himself  at  the  right  as  one 
of  the  Rabbis,  a  venerable  old  man  with  white  hair  and 
beard,  and  an  expression  of  mild  and  self-respecting 
dignity. 

There  is  another  picture  by  Luini,  bearing  this  title,  in 
our  National  Gallery,  which  was  long  attributed  to  Leo- 
nardo da  Vinci.  It  is  sometimes  called  Christ  and  the 
Pharisees,  on  the  ground  that  the  Saviour  is  represented 
as  much  more  than  twelve  years  old.  His  face  is  very 
calm  and  beautiful,  and  is  in  forcible  contrast  with  the 
hard  fanaticism  expressed  by  the  features  of  the  white- 
bearded  Masters  of  Israel.  The  admiration  inspired  by 
this  picture  is  shewn  by  the  existence  of  several  ancient 
copies.  "  Incapable,"  says  Burckhardt,  "  of  representing 
the  conquest  of  argument  over  argument,  Painting  here 
gave  the  victory  to  heavenly  purity  and  beauty  over  ob- 
stinacy and  vulgarity." 

Mr.  Holman  Hunt's  Finding  of  Christ  in  the  Temple  is 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  profound  and  deeply  studied 
religious  pictures  of  this  or  of  any  age,  and  he  has  treated 
the  subject  in  a  manner  which  can  never  be  surpassed. 
The  scene  is  a  sort  of  open  loggia  approached  by  steps 
from  the  Temple  Court,  and  having  at  one  end  a  gilded 
lattice-work.  Just  outside  sits  a  lame  beggar,  and  in  the 
courtyard  below  we  see  the  builders  at  work  on  Herod's 
yet  unfinished  temple,  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  rejected 
corner-stone.  At  the  back  of  this  lecture-room  a  boy  is 
scaring  away  the  intrusive  doves  with  a  streamer  of  silk. 
In  the  distance  is  a  seller  of  animals,  and  a  family  has 
taken  a  lamb  from  its  ewe  to  offer  at  the  consecration  of  a 
first-born  child.  The  Rabbis,  seven  in  number,  are  seated 
on  a  semi-circular  divan,  and  are  richly  dressed  in  Eastern 
costume.  The  nearest  Rabbi,  blind  and  very  aged,  is 


288  THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST   IN   ART. 

clasping  to  his  breast  a  roll  of  the  Thora,  and  is  a  type  of 
the  Jewish  Law  already  beginning  to  fall  dead  and  effete 
in  useless  formalism.  One  of  the  Levite  chorister  boys 
behind  him  is  reverently  lifting  a  fold  of  the  Thora-cover- 
ing,  to  kiss  it.  Three  other  boys,  with  their  musical  in- 
struments, are  curiously  watching  the  meeting  of  the  Boy 
Christ  with  His  parents. 

The  old  blind  Rabbi  has  evidently  been  agitated  by 
some  answer  of  Jesus,  and  the  one  next  to  him  holds  a 
phylactery  in  his  hand,  and  comforts  him.  The  next,  a 
man  in  the  prime  of  life,  has  been  deeply  and  favourably 
struck,  and  has  unrolled  the  Law-scroll  on  his  knee,  while 
he  gazes  on  Christ  with  earnest  thought.  The  rest  are 
less  affected  b}r  what  they  have  heard.  One  of  them  is 
about  to  drink  a  bowl  of  wine  which  an  attendant  is 
pouring  out  for  him. 

The  Boy  Jesus  has  just  caught  sight  of  Joseph  and  His 
Mother,  and  has  risen  from  His  seat  at  the  feet  of  the 
doctors  to  salute  them.  The  Virgin  draws  Him  towards 
her  with  a  look  of  intense  and  yearning  love  ;  but  His 
thoughts  are  far  away.  One  hand  lies  passive  in  her 
tender  grasp,  the  other  is  tightening  the  buckle  of  His 
girdle,  while  he  seems  to  be  saying,  "  How  is  it  that  ye 
sought  Me  ?  Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be'  in  My  Father's 
House  ?'51  He  is  dressed  in  the  costume  which  would  then 
have  been  worn  by  a  peasant  boy  of  Galilee,  except  that 
it  has  a  fringe.  There  is  a  natural  aureole  formed  by  the 
light  passing  through  the  edge  of  the  reddish  golden  hair, 
which  was  a  traditional  element  in  the  beauty  of  His 
ancestor  David.  Joseph,  with  his  tools,  stands  behind 
the  Virgin.  His  right  hand  seems  to  hover  with  infinite 
awe  and  tenderness  over  the  shoulders  of  the  Divine  Boy. 

The  great  aim  of  the  painter  in  this  picture  has  been  to 
avoid  all  mere  prettiness,  all  touch  of  effeminacy  in  the 

1  This,  as  was  decisively  proved  by  Dr.  Field  of  Norwich,  in  his  Otium 
Norviceuse,  is  undoubtedly  the  true  rendering  here  —  not  as  in  the  N.  V., 
*'  About  My  Father's  business." 


CHRIST   AMONG   THE   DOCTORS.  289 

figure  of  the  Boy  Christ.  He  wished  to  represent  Him  as 
ready,  gentle,  manly ;  full  of  the  most  heavenly  thoughts, 
yet  meek,  and  lowly,  and  desiring  to  be  reverent  to  His 
earthly  parents.  He  has  been  eminently  successful.  No 
mediaeval  painter  —  not  even  L.  da  Vinci,  or  Luini,  or 
Raphael  —  ever  painted  so  pure  an  ideal  of  the  Boy  Christ, 
or  produced  any  rendering  of  this  favourite  subject  so 
thorough  or  so  perfect.  As  we  look  at  it,  we  can  say :  — 

"  This,  this  is  Thou !     Xo  idle  painter's  dream 
Of  aureoled,  imaginary  Christ, 
Laden  with  attributes  that  make  not  God, 
But  Jesus,  Son  of  Mary,  lowly,  wise, 
Obedient,  subject  unto  parents,  mild, 
Meek  —  as  the  meek  that  shall  inherit  earth ; 
Pure  —  as  the  pure  in  heart  that  shall  see  God."  1 

This  picture  mainly  represents  the  Finding  of  Christ 
by  His  Parents ;  but  in  another  picture  —  of  which  an 
engraving  appeared  in  the  Contemporary  Review  in 
August,  1890,  but  which  has  not  yet  been  publicly 
exhibited  —  Mr.  Hunt  has  painted  the  scene  of  Christ 
among  the  Doctors.2  It  is  a  water-colour  picture  of  a 
design  in  mosaic  for  the  Chapel  of  Clifton  College.  This 
picture  also  is  far  more  true  to  the  Gospels  than  any 
mediaeval  or  modern  representation.  The  young  Christ, 
of  twelve  years  old,  is  not  painted  asserting  Himself  in 
argumentative  superiority  over  elders  white  with  the 
snows  of  age,  who  had  spent  their  lives  in  the  study  of 
the  Law ;  but  He  is  seated,  half-kneeling,  at  their  feet  on 
the  shining  floor  of  one  of  the  Temple  Lecture-Rooms. 
The  Rabbis  are  all  intended  for  historic  personages.  The 
one  nearest  the  spectator  is  the  powerful  Rabboni  Simeon, 
son  of  the  sweet  and  noble  Hillel,  and  at  his  feet  sits  his 
young  son  Gamaliel,  with  an  Eastern  tablet  in  his  hand. 
Next  to  the  Rabboni  is  Bava  ben  Butah,  whom  Herod  had 

1  Miss  Mulock. 

2  It  is  also  reproduced  in  the  Christinas  number  of  the  Art  Journal 
for  1893. 

u 


290  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

blinded  because  he  reproved  him  for  the  murder  of 
Mariamne.  Then  comes  the  wise  Rabbi  Johanan  ben 
Zakkai ;  and  next  to  him  in  order  are  Jonathan  ben 
Uzziel,  the  author  of  the  Targum,  Zadok,  with  a  broad 
phylactery  on  his  forehead,  and  two  others. 

Opposite  to  the  young  Gamaliel  sit  two  richly  dressed 
boys  of  the  upper  classes,  intended  for  Joseph  of  Arima- 
thea  and  Nicodemus.  Exactly  in  the  centre  kneels  the 
humble  Lad  from  Nazareth  in  His  peasant's  dress  —  a 
white  tunic  girded  with  a  leather  girdle,  which  has  a  star- 
shaped  buckle.  He  is  kneeling  on  His  striped  tallith.  His 
curling  locks  of  reddish  gold,  full  of  light  and  beauty, 
stream  down  His  neck  and  over  His  shoulders.  His  head 
is  bent  downwards,  and  His  deep  blue  eyes  are  full  of 
thought.  His  face,  of  the  most  purely  noble  loveliness, 
seems  to  be  lighted  from  within  by  a  heavenly  radiance  ; 
His  right  hand  is  raised  to  His  forehead  in  the  Eastern 
gesture  of  attentive  reverence  ;  His  left  hand  holds  a  scroll 
of  the  Prophet  Isaiah,  on  which  may  be  read  in  Hebrew 
the  words,  "  He  shall  grow  up  before  Him  like  a  tender 
plant."  The  figure  hardly  needs  the  nimbus  which  sur- 
rounds the  head.  "  It  is  not  that  the  historic  Christ  is  less 
Divine,  but  that  all  humanity  is  diviner  because  He  lived 
and  died."  The  picture,  among  its  other  supreme  merits, 
is  faithful,  in  its  minutest  details,  to  the  customs  and  cos- 
tumes of  the  East. 

Far  inferior  to  this,  yet  undoubtedly  a  work  of  genius, 
is  the  picture  by  Hoffmann.  The  Boy  Christ,  in  His  white 
tunic  and  girdle,  and  with  a  nimbus  radiating  from  His 
dark  locks,  leans  with  His  right  arm  upon  a  desk  in 
earnest  argument.  One  of  the  doctors,  a  man  in  the 
prime  of  life,  is  bending  towards  Him  with  a  look  of  deep 
earnestness,  resting  his  head  on  his  left  hand,  while  the 
right  holds  a  scroll.  An  older  man,  with  a  smooth  face, 
looks  over  His  shoulder  with  astonishment,  not  unmingled 
with  disapproval.  On  the  other  side  are  three  Pharisees. 
One  is  very  aged,  with  streaming  white  hair  and  beard, 


CHRIST   AMONG   THE   DOCTORS.  291 

who,  leaning  both  hands  on  his  staff,  gazes  at  the  youthful 
Saviour  with  a  somewjhat  cynical,  yet  not  unkindly,  smile. 
A  second  is  insisting  on  some  argument,  with  an  air  of 
benevolent  authority.  His  left  arm  is  on  the  back  of  a 
seat,  on  which  sits  a  stately  Rabbi  of  some  sixty  years, 
who  is  turning  the  pages  of  a  volume  from  which  he  has 
looked  up,  and  he  fixes  on  Christ  his  gaze  of  somewhat 
stern  disapproval.  His  thumb  rests  on  the  text  he  has 
adduced,  to  which  the  left  hand  of  the  Boy  is  pointing. 
The  picture  is  perfectly  reverent.  The  face  of  the  young 
Christ,  with  His  dark  earnest  eyes  and  long  dark  locks, 
is  of  faultless  beauty.  Yet  the  motive  of  the  picture  is 
mistaken.  Christ  is  eager  and  anxious,  as  though  over- 
matched in  the  discussion.  He  is  contending,  as  it  were, 
with  these  grave  and  reverend  Teachers  of  the  Law, 
not  as  the  Evangelist  represents  Him,  in  all  the  sweet 
modesty  of  youth,  "both  hearing  them  and  asking  them 
questions." 


BOOK  VII. 

SCENES   OF  THE  MINISTRY. 


"  True  painting  is  only  an  image  of  God's  perfection  ;  a  shadow  of 
the  pencil  with  which  He  paints ;  a  melody,  a  striving  after  harmony." 
—  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

"Typically,  the  Renaissance  stands  for  youth  and  youth  alone,  —  for 
intellectual  curiosity  and  energy,  grasping  at  the  whole  of  life  as  material 
which  it  hopes  to  mould  to  any  shape."  —  BERNARD  BEREXSOX,  The  Vene- 
tian Painters,  New  York,  1894. 


I. 

GENERAL   SERIES. 

"  He  who  occupies  himself  with  the  things  of  Christ  must  ever  dwell 
with  Christ."  — ERA  ANGELICO. 

*  THREE  of  the  early  Pre-Raphaelite  painters  have  given 
us  many  consecutive  scenes  from  the  Life  of  Christ, — 
Duccio,  Giotto,  and  Fra  Angelico. 

Two  series  of  paintings  were  devoted  to  this  subject  by 
GIOTTO,  —  one  in  the  monastery  church  of  St.  Francis  at 
Assisi,  the  other  in  the  Arena  Chapel  at  Padua. 

The  series  at  Assisi  is  the  earlier  of  the  two,  and  it  illus- 
trates the  marvellous  freshness,  genius,  and  originality  by 
which  Giotto  was  enabled  to  breathe  life  into  subjects 
which  he  was  bound  to  treat  more  or  less  in  the  old  tra- 
ditional Byzantine  manner.  In  the  Nativity,  we  have  the 
anxious  and  wondering  Joseph,  the  shepherds,  the  angels, 
the  women  who  bathe  the  Holy  Child,  the  ox  and  ass,  and 
every  ancient  element  of  the  recognized  treatment ;  but  he 
has  struck  new  lightning  into  the  old  motives.  In  the 
Adoration  of  the  Magi,  we  have  the  Moorish  attendants 
naively  characterized,  but  the  glad  Mother,  the  gray 
kneeling  King,  blessed  by  the  Child,  who  (in  an  often- 
copied  incident)  lays  His  little  hand  on  the  old  man's 
head,  the  younger  king  taking  on0  the  rich  mantle  of 
his  companion,  are  full  of  life.  In  "  the  Presentation," 
the  yearning  of  the  Virgin,  and  the  earnest  worship  of  the 
kneeling  youth,  shews  what  progress  religious  art  has 
made.  In  the  Flight  into  Egypt,  angels  lead  the  way 
towards  the  hills,  and  while  a  boy  and  girl  are  talking 

295 


296  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

as  they  follow  the  ass,  the  boy  who  alone  sees  the  angel 
walks  by  Joseph's  side. 

In  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  we  have  genuine 
pathos  achieved  by  the  simplest  materials.  The  Christ 
among  the  Doctors  is  an  inferior  work ;  but  the  Return  of 
the  Holy  Family,  with  the  Child  clinging  to  the  robe  of 
His  supposed  father,  is  charming.  The  Crucifixion  intro- 
duced elements  which  were  repeatedly  copied  by  later 
artists,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  St.  John  who  wrings  his 
hands,  and  the  woman  who  shews  her  anguish  by  wildly 
flinging  back  her  arms. 

Giotto's  later  and  more  matured  series  is  in  the  Chapel 
of  the  Arena.  It  marks  the  culmination  and  supreme 
triumph  of  his  art.  The  first  twelve  pictures  are  devoted 
to  the  Life  of  the  Virgin.  The  thirteenth  and  fourteenth, 
which  are  on  either  side  of  the  arch  at  the  east  end  of  the 
chapel,  represent  the  Annunciation.  Vasari  praises  Giotto 
for  representing  the  fear  of  the  Virgin  at  the  address  of 
the  angel.  If  he  ever  treated  the  subject  in  such  a  man- 
ner, he  departed  from  all  the  traditions  of  his  time.  The 
angel,  on  the  contrary,  is  remarkable  for  his  serenity,  as 
opposed  to  the  late  reconception  of  the  scene  in  which  he 
sails  into  the  chamber  upon  the  wing,  like  a  stooping 
falcon.1 

In  the  Nativity,  Giotto  abandons  the  incident  of  the 
Bath,  which  was,  perhaps,  suspected  by  some  on  theological 
grounds.  The  Adoration  of  the  Kings  is  more  realistically 
treated  than  in  the  Chapel  at  Assisi.  A  humble  roof  takes 
the  place  of  the  stately  palace,  and  the  Virgin  holds  for- 
ward the  little  Child  —  here  a  true  infant  —  to  the  old 
king  to  kiss.  The  Presentation  is  also  more  purely  human 
and  domestic,  especially  in  the  way  in  which  the  Child  in 
the  arms  of  Simeon  seems  yearning  to  get  back  to  the  out- 
stretched arms  of  His  Mother.  The  Flight  into  Egypt 
seems  to  have  had  for  Giotto  an  idyllic  charm.  In  the 
Christ  among  the  Doctors  we  have  that  representation  of 

1  Ruskin's  Giotto  and  His  Works  at  Padua,  p.  72. 


GENERAL   SERIES.  297 

the  joy  of  Mary  and  Joseph  at  the  recovery  of  the  lost 
Boy,  which  is  so  prominent  in  the  great  picture  by  Mr. 
Holman  Hunt.  In  the  Baptism  of  Christ,  Giotto  follows 
an  old  treatment  in  representing  the  two  angels  who  stand 
on  the  bank  and  hold  the  garments  of  Jesus.  In  the 
Marriage  at  Cana,  the  painter  gives  the  reins  to  his 
originality,  and  almost  becomes  a  precursor  of  Veronese 
in  the  sketch  of  the  servant  who  is  eagerly  drinking  out 
of  a  tankard.  In  the  Raising  of  Lazarus,  Giotto  empha- 
sized the  actual  death,  but  in  the  aspect  of  the  swathed 
figure,  and  in  the  disagreeable  incident  —  afterwards 
adopted  by  Sebastian  del  Piombo  —  of  the  woman  who 
holds  her  robes  up  to  her  nose  with  a  gesture  and  expres- 
sion of  disgust,  he  borrows  older  conceptions.  Martha  and 
Mary  are  kneeling  at  Christ's  feet.  Much  of  the  treatment 
is  traditional,  but  it  is  enlivened  by  the  two  fine  figures  of 
St.  Peter  and  St.  John,  by  the  expressiveness  of  the  faces, 
and  the  excitement  of  the  deeply  moved  youth,  who,  with 
one  hand  raised  to  his  chin,  peers  into  the  face  of  Lazarus, 
and  raises  his  arm  as  though  in  astonished  appeal  to 
Christ.  This  picture  is  one  of  the  finest  in  the  series. 
The  Entry  into  Jerusalem  shews  how  Giotto  could  paint 
the  enthusiasm  of  a  crowd.  In  the  Bargain  of  Judas, 
"the  two  hands  of  the  High  Priest  (as  is  so  often  the 
case  with  Giotto)  seem  to  speak,"  and  there  is  deep  mean- 
ing in  the  joy  of  the  bird-footed  demon,  who,  unseen  by 
the  two  actors,  makes  a  malicious  clutch  at  the  apostate 
with  his  claws.  Two  of  the  venerable  conspirators  are 
discussing  the  matter  apart,  and  one  of  them  indicates  the 
mean-looking  Judas  with  a  backward  jerk  of  his  thumb,  a 
gesture  not  unfrequent  in  the  pictures  of  the  trecentisti. 
The  same  gesture  occurs  in  the  well-known  Virgin  and 
Child,  with  St.  John  and  St.  Francis,  by  Pietro  Cavallini, 
at  Assisi.  The  Virgin  calls  the  Child's  attention  to  St. 
Francis  by  a  backward  turn  of  her  thumb.  Of  the  fol- 
lowing pictures,  the  Last  Supper  is  somewhat  common- 
place, and  in  the  Washing  of  the  Feet,  the  Betrayal,  the 


298  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Mockery,  the  Bearing  of  the  Cross,  there  is  a  tendency 
to  exaggerated  realism.  But  the  Crucifixion  is  a  great 
picture.  There  is  a  "lofty  moderation  in  the  pathos.  In 
the  group  under  the  Cross,  the  Virgin,  fainting,  yet  still 
upright,  is  supported  in  the  arms  of  her  friends ;  their 
sorrow  is  not  (as  in  the  painters  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury) for  her  fainting  itself,  but  for  her  terrible  agony."1 
The  tension  of  the  scene  is  a  little  relieved  by  the  angels, 
who,  like  frightened  birds,  —  Dante's  divini  uccelli,  — 
flutter  around.  The  soldiers  at  the  right  are  engaged  in 
earnest  dispute ;  two  of  them  are  preventing  a  third  from 
cutting  to  pieces  the  seamless  robe.  The  Pieta  is  also  a 
great  picture.  The  sky  is  full  of  angels  who  express 
every  variety  of  anguish.  The  Body  is,  as  it  were, 
wrapped  round  in  love  and  grief ;  the  shoulders  and  back 
lie  on  the  knees  of  the  Mother,  who  embraces  her  dead 
Son.  A  female  saint  upholds  His  head,  another  supports 
His  right  hand;  the  penitent  Magdalene  gazes  upon  and 
clasps  the  feet  which  she  had  once  bathed  with  her  tears 
and  wiped  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Everywhere  the 
subjects  are  conceived  in  a  higher  and  more  intellectual 
manner  than  by  many  of  Giotto's  greatest  successors.2 

Another  remarkable  set  of  scenes  from  the  Life  of 
Christ  —  twenty-six  in  number  —  is  that  by  Duccio  (1310), 
in  the  Cathedral  of  Siena.  They  constitute  twenty-six 
predella  and  other  paintings,  in  connexion  with  his  famous 
Madonna.  It  is  needless  to  dwell  on  them  separately. 
They  shew  more  sweetness  and  refinement  than  those  of 
Giotto,  but  less  force  and  originality.  Six  of  them  are 
devoted  to  the  childhood  and  youth  of  Christ  up  to  the 
First  Miracle  ;  six  to  the  Resurrection,  and  its  following 
appearances;  and  six  to  the  Life  of  the  Virgin,  as  given 
in  the  Legenda  Aurea.  "  If  to  produce  individually  beau- 
tiful objects  were  the  highest  purpose  of  painting,"  says 

1  Burckhardt,  Cicerone,  35. 

2  See  E.  Dobbert,  Giotto  (Dohme,  Kunst  u.  Kunstler,  I.  17-36);  and 
Ruskin's  Giotto  and  His  Works  at  Padua. 


GENERAL  SERIES.  299 

Burckhardt,  "  Duccio  would  have  excelled  all  the  masters 
of  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  not  excepting 
Orcagna.  Great  must  have  been  his  joy  when  he  found 
himself  capable  of  reproducing,  for  his  astonished  con- 
temporaries, the  beauty  of  the  human  countenance  and 
the  balanced  grace  of  lovely  movements  and  attitudes  by 
his  own  method,  and  not  by  following  antique  models,  as 
did  Niccolo  Pisano.  Yet  his  method  is  still  Byzantine, 
and  in  his  historical  compositions,  strictly  speaking,  he 
rather  gave  life  to  the  traditional  subjects  of  the  school 
than  introduced  new  ones.  Whether  he  produced  much  or 
little  else  besides  this  masterpiece,  he  undoubtedly  gave 
the  tone  to  the  school  of  his  native  city  during  a  whole 
century."  l 

Most  of  Fra  Angelico's  series  may  be  seen  in  Florence, 
and  especially  at  San  Marco.  The  heavenly  achievements, 
and  the  scarcely  less  heavenly  weaknesses,  of  his  art, 
are  too  well  known  to  need  further  notice.  He  is  pre- 
eminently the  painter  of  the  pure  in  heart,  of  "the 
heavenlies,"2  and  of  the  beatific  vision.  Intense  faith 
and  intense  love,  and  an  almost  immaculate  innocence, 
shine  in  his  lucid  and  paradisaical  faces.  "  He  used  his 
colours,"  it  has  been  said,  "  as  David  used  his  harp,  in 
kingly  fashion,  for  the  purposes  of  praise  and  not  of 
science.  To  this  gift  and  grace  of  holiness  were  added 
those  of  a  fertile  imagination,  vivid  invention,  keen  sense 
of  loveliness  in  lines  and  colours,  unwearied  energy,  and 
to  all  these  gifts,  the  crowning  one  of  quietness  and  peace 
of  mind."  3 

1  There  are  four  scenes  from  the  Life  of  Christ,  by  Duccio,  in  the  pos- 
session of  Mr.  R.  H.  Benson.     They  are  on  gold  backgrounds,  and  rep- 
resent :     1.  The  Call  of  Peter  and  Andrew.     2.  The  Raising  of  Lazarus, 
in  which  the  body  is  still  swathed,  as  in  the  pictures  of  the  Catacombs. 
3.  Christ  and  the  Woman  of  Samaria,  who  stands  with  her  pitcher  on  her 
head  and  her  waterpot  in  her  hand,  in  the  centre.     4.  The  Temptation 
of  Christ. 

2  TO.  firovpdivia  Eph.  i.  3. 

3  On  the  pictures  in  San  Marco,  see  the  warmly  appreciative  remarks 
of  Burckhardt.  —  Cicerone,  page  54. 


300  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

May  we  pause  to  say  a  few  words  about  this  enchant- 
ing painter  ? 

Vasari  speaks  of  his  goodness  in  these  beautiful  terms : 
"  He  avoided  all  worldly  business ;  he  loved  the  poor ;  he 
worked  continually  in  his  Art,  nor  would  he  paint  other 
things  than  those  which  concerned  the  saints.  He  might 
have  been  rich,  but  he  cared  not  for  riches ;  nay,  he  was 
wont  to  say  that  true  riches  consist  entirely  in  being  con- 
tent with  little.  He  might  have  had  command  over  many, 
and  would  not,  saying,  that  to  obey  others  was  less 
troublesome  and  less  liable  to  error.  It  was  in  his  choice 
to  have  honours  and  dignities  in  his  convent,  and  beyond 
it ;  but  they  were  valueless  to  him,  who  affirmed  that  the 
only  dignity  he  sought  was  to  avoid  Hell  and  reach 
Paradise ;  and  what  dignity  is  to  be  compared  to  that, 
which  all  ecclesiastics,  and  indeed  all  men,  ought  to  seek, 
and  which  is  found  only  in  God,  and  in  a  virtuous  life  ? 
He  was  most  kind,  and,  living  soberly  and  chastely,  he 
freed  himself  from  the  snares  of  the  world,  frequently 
repeating  that  the  painter  had  need  of  quiet;  and  that  he 
who  does  the  things  of  Christ  should  always  be  with 
Christ.  That  which  appears  to  be  a  very  wondrous  and 
almost  incredible  thing  is,  that  among  his  brethren  he  was 
never  seen  in  anger ;  and  it  was  his  wont  when  he  admon- 
ished his  friends,  to  do  so  with  a  sweet  and  smiling  gentle- 
ness." He  goes  on  to  tell  us  that,  when  his  Prior  gave 
him  leave,  he  was  always  ready  to  paint  for  any  one  who 
desired  his  works ;  that  he  never  took  up  his  brush  with- 
out a  previous  prayer;  that  he  never  painted  a  crucifix 
without  bathing  his  own  cheeks  with  tears ;  and  that  he 
never  would  take  any  money  for  his  works.  He  adds  one 
anecdote  which  beautifully  illustrates  Angelico's  sim- 
plicity :  One  day  Pope  Nicholas  V.  invited  him  to  dinner, 
but  he  refused  to  eat  meat  because  he  had  not  obtained 
the  leave  of  his  Prior,  "  forgetting,  in  his  unquestioning 
obedience,  the  authority  of  the  Pope  to  release  him  from 
that  of  his  ecclesiastic  superior." 


GENERAL   SERIES.  301 

Angelico  could  paint  angels  as  no  other  man  has  been 
able  to  paint  them,  because  he  was  one  of  those  few  men 
who  on  earth  had  lived  in  heaven.  He  paints  them 
almost  shadowless,  in  robes  of  the  purest,  tenderest,  and 
most  vernal  colourings,  their  heads  surrounded  by  golden 
nimbi,  enriched  with  flower-like  touches,  and  their  radiant 
wings  enamelled  with  all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow.  He 
conceives  them,  as  Dante  conceives  them,  as  emanations  of 
living  light.  Often  in  painting  them  he  must  have 
thought  of  Dante's  lines  in  the  Purgatorio  :  — 

"  Coming  forth,  descending  from  on  high 
I  saw  two  angels,  each  with  sword  of  fire 
Truncated  flames,  of  forms  that  points  deny. 
Verdant  as  new-born  leaflets  their  attire 
Was  seen,  while  they  with  green  wings  onward  drove. 
Beaten  and  blown  in  many  a  breezy  spire." 

Their  faces,  soft,  and  ethereally  beautiful,  are  delicate  with 
rose  and  gold,  as  of  — 

"  Some  bright  creatures  of  the  element 
Who  in  the  colours  of  the  rainbow  live 
And  play  in  the  plighted  clouds." 

They  were  the  faces  which  he  saw  in  his  holy  visions,  and 
which  —  regarding  them  as  revelations  —  he  never  would 
retouch  when  once  they  had  been  sketched  in.  It  would 
be  idle  in  me  to  attempt  to  describe  them  when  I  can 
enrich  this  page  with  the  splendid  sentences  of  Mr.  Ruskin. 
He  describes  "the  angel-choirs  of  Angelico,  with  the 
flames  on  their  white  foreheads,  waving  brighter  as  they 
move,  and  the  sparkles  streaming  from  their  purple  wings, 
like  the  glitter  of  many  suns  upon  a  sounding  sea,  listen- 
ing, in  the  pauses  of  alternate  song,  for  the  prolonging 
of  the  trumpet-blast  and  the  answering  of  psaltery  and 
cymbal,  throughout  the  endless  deep,  and  from  all  the 
star  shores  of  heaven."  Cardinal  Newman  said  of  angels, 
that  "every  breath  of  air,  every  ray  of  light  and  heat, 
every  beautiful  prospect  is,  as  it  were,  the  skirts  of  their 


302  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

garments,  the  waving  of  the  robes  of  those  whose  faces 
see  God."  This  was  the  constant  thought  of  Fra  Angelico. 
The  cloister  walk  of  Florence  was  to  him  "  no  penitential 
solitude,  but  a  possessed  land  of  tender  blessing,  guarded 
from  the  entrance  of  all  but  holiest  sorrow.  The  little 
cell  was  one  of  the  houses  of  heaven  prepared  for  him  by 
his  Master.  Was  not  the  Val  d'Arno,  with  its  olive 
woods  in  white  blossom,  paradise  enough  for  a  poor 
monk?  or  could  Christ  be  indeed  in  heaven  more  than 
here?  Was  He  not  always  with  him?  Under  every 
cypress  avenue  the  angels  walked.  He  had  seen  their 
white  robes,  whiter  than  the  dawn,  at  his  bedside,  as  he 
awoke  at  early  summer.  They  had  sung  with  him,  one  on 
each  side,  when  his  voice  failed  for  joy  at  sweet  vesper 
and  matin  time ;  his  eyes  were  blinded  by  their  wings  in 
the  sunset,  when  it  sank  behind  the  hills  of  Luni." 

"  The  period  of  the  fourteenth  and  earlier  years  of  the 
fifteenth  century  is  one,  comparatively  speaking,  of  repose 
and  tranquillity,"  says  Lord  Lindsay.  "  The  storm  sleeps, 
and  the  winds  are  still.  There  is  in  truth  a  holy  purity, 
an  innocent  na'ivete',  a  childlike  grace  and  simplicity,  a 
fearlessness,  an  utter  freedom  from  affectation,  a  yearning 
after  all  things  truthful,  lovely,  and  of  good  report  in  the 
productions  of  this  early  time,  which  invest  them  with  a 
charm  peculiar  of  its  kind,  and  which  few  even  of  the 
most  perfect  works  of  the  maturer  era  can  boast." l 

Later  schools,  under  the  influence  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
of  Michael  Angelo,  and  of  Raphael,  gained  in  anatomical 
correctness  and  in  technical  qualities,  but  they  utterly  lost 
the  faultless  workmanship,  the  serenity,  the  avoidance  of 
tumult,  violence,  and  pain,  which  are  characteristic  of  the 
earlier  schools.  Their  danger  was  the  substitution  of  the 
flesh  for  the  spirit,  and  the  choice  of  evil  in  all  its  forms 
—  sadness,  vice,  sensuality,  pride  and  anguish  —  as  fit 
themes  for  the  self-display  of  a  scientific  art.2 

1  Christian  Art,  II.  161. 

2  These  facts  have  been  illustrated  by  Mr.   Ruskin  in  his  lecture  on 
Michael  Angelo  and  Tintoret. 


GENERAL  SERIES.  303 

There  are  not  many  complete  series  of  scenes  from  the 
Life  of  Christ,  by  the  painters  of  the  Renaissance.  Francia, 
however,  has  something  of  the  kind  in  the  Accademia  of 
Florence.  One  long  and  narrow  picture  represents  at 
one  end  the  Nativity,  and  at  the  other,  the  Crucifixion. 
In  his  Pietd  two  angels  bear  the  dead  Christ,  and  each 
face  is  full  of  the  lovely  intensity  of  sincere  feeling  which 
characterizes  the  master.  In  one  of  his  Madonnas,  the 
Virgin  and  Child  are  seated  between  a  rapturous  Sebastian 
and  an  armed  St.  George,  his  helmet  at  his  feet,  his 
splintered  lance  in  his  hand.  Above  them,  three  angels, 
crowned  with  oleanders  and  carnations,  are  scattering 
flowers. 

Every  visitor  to  Venice  knows  the  colossal  series  of 
scenes  from  the  Life  of  Christ,  which  are  the  most  wonder- 
ful proof  of  the  genius  of  Tintoret  in  the  Scuola  di  San 
Rocco.  Of  more  than  one  of  these  I  have  spoken  sepa- 
rately. The  Annunciation  and  the  Crucifixion  are  perhaps 
the  most  striking. 

There  is  a  set  of  nine  pictures  from  the  Life  of  Christ 
by  Holbein. 

No  painter  of  this  or  the  last  century  has,  I  believe, 
ever  produced  such  series  as  these ;  but  Mr.  Holman  Hunt 
has  devoted  many  years  of  his  life  to  the  setting  forth  of 
great  events  in  the  Life  of  the  Saviour.  Of  these  I  have 
spoken  under  the  several  heads. 


II. 

SEPAKATE   INCIDENTS   OF  THE   MINISTKY. 

"  And  so  the  Word  had  flesh  and  wrought 
With  human  hands  the  creed  of  creeds, 
In  loveliness  of  perfect  deeds, 
More  strong  than  all  poetic  thought." 

—  TENNYSON. 

ALTHOUGH  some  scenes  of  Christ's  Ministry  have  been 
frequently  treated  in  Art,  yet  the  number  of  pictures 
which  deal  with  His  three  and  a  half  years  of  public 
teaching  and  preaching  in  Judaea,  Samaria,  and  Galilee  is 
extremely  small  in  comparison  with  those  which  represent 
what  may  be  called  the  more  personal  and  individual 
elements  of  His  life  on  earth.1  The  great  mediaeval 
masters,  whether  German  or  Italian,  far  more  rarely  chose 
for  their  subjects  the  Parables,  the  Miracles,  or  the  great 
sermons  of  Christ,  than  they  chose  the  events  of  His 
earliest  years  and  of  His  latest  days.2 

I  shall  endeavour  in  this  chapter  to  give  specimens  of 
the  earliest,  or  one  of  the  earliest,  representations  of  the 

1  Readers  who  wish  to  be  referred  to  other  pictures  in  the  events  of  the 
Ministry,  which  are  not  mentioned  here,  may  find  some  by  Gaudenzio 
Ferrari,  Bassano,  Annibale  Carracci,  Poussin,  etc.,  in  the  Illustrated  Xew 
Testament,  published  by  Mr.  Longman  in  1883.     But  the  pictures  of  the 
sixteenth  century  and  later  painters,  being  technical  rather  tli*an  religious, 
have  but  little  interest  in  connexion  with  my  present  subject. 

2  There   is  a  series  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  on  the  right  wall.     1.  The 
Baptism  (Perugino).     2.  The  Temptation  (Botticelli).     3.  The  calling 
of   Peter  and  Andrew  (Ghirlandajo).     4.  The  Sermon   on   the   Mount 
(Rosselli).      5.    The    Investiture    of    Peter   (Perugino).     6.    The    Last 
Supper  (Rosselli). 

304 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS  OF   THE  MINISTRY.       305 

main  events  of  these  years  which  are  recorded  in  the 
Gospels.  These  will  furnish  us  with  the  chief  traditional 
elements  of  treatment,  which  frequently  remained  undis- 
turbed for  centuries.  As  regards  some  of  the  scenes,  these 
early  pictures  will  therefore  suffice,  and,  indeed,  lack  of 
space,  as  well  as  limitation  of  materials,  render  it  impos- 
sible to  enter  so  fully  into  this  part  of  the  subject. 

After  the  first  visit  to  the  Temple,  the  Gospels  do  not' 
furnish  a  single  detail  of  the  Life  of  Christ  until  the 
Baptism.  The  question  of  the  indignant  Nazarene,  "Is 
not  this  the  carpenter?  "  and  the  few  precious  words  of 
St.  Luke,  which  tell  us  that  He  lived  at  Nazareth  with 
His  parents,  and  was  subject  unto  them,  and  "grew  in 
wisdom  and  stature  and  favour  with  God  and  men,"  fur- 
nish all  that  we  really  know.1 


THE   BAPTISM. 

"  A  Johanne  in  Jordane, 

Christus  baptisatus  est 
Unde  lotus  mundus  totus 
Et  purificatus  est." 

—  PRUDENTIUS. 

The  veil  of  silence  is  first  lifted  for  us  when  Jesus  was 
"  about  thirty  years  of  age,"  and  went  to  be  baptized  of 
John  in  the  Jordan. 

In  the  Catacombs  during 
the  first  four  centuries,  the 
Baptism  was,  as  a  rule,  indi- 
cated by  such  distant  sym- 
bols as  Noah  in  the  Ark  and 
the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea. 
It  is  not  till  the  fifth  century 
that  we  find  the  first  actual 
representation  on  a  sarcoph- 
agus in  the  Lateran,  next  to  — 

1  Mark  vi.  3  ;  Luke  ii.  51,  52. 


306 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX    ART. 


an  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds.1    The  Jordan  is  represented 
by  a  wavy  line  at  the  right.     The  Baptist  stands  on  the 

rocky  bank  and 
pours  water  on 
the  head  of  the 
Saviour  from  a 
patera. 

In  the  sixth  cen- 
tury we  find  the 
same  treatment 
varied  only  in  the 
accessories.  In 
the  Baptistery  of 
the  Cathedral  at 
Ravenna,  the  scene  is  represented  in  a  medallion  at  the 


1  Aringhi,  II.  355;  Fleury,  XXXII.,  Fig.  3. 


SEPARATE  INCIDENTS   OF   THE  MINISTRY.       307 

top  of  the  cupola.1  The  rocks  on  which  St.  John  stands 
are  brightened  with  flowers,  and  he  holds  in  his  left  hand 
a  jewelled  cross  which  Hemans  regards  as  a  later  addition. 
Over  the  patera  is  a  descending  dove.  The  heads  both  of 
Christ  and  of  the  Baptist  are  surrounded  by  the  nimbus, 
and  on  the  right,  holding  a  towel  in  his  hands,  stands  a 
personification  of  the  Jordan,  a  bearded  river-god,  with  his 
head  crowned  by  a  wreath  of  water-plants. 

One  more  illustration  may  be  given  from  a  seventh- 
century  fresco  in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Pontianus.  Here 
St.  John  stands  on  the  left  river-bank  and  the  towel  is 


held  by  an  angel  on  the  right  bank.2  A  stag  is  bending 
down  to  quench  his  thirst  at  the  water-brooks,  in  reference 
to  Psalm  xlii.  1. 

The  mediaeval  treatment  of  the  scene  is  illustrated  by 
the  noble  picture  of  Andrea  Verrocchio  in  the  Accademia 
di  Belle  Arti  at  Venice.  It  was  painted  for  the  monks  of 

1  Fleury,  XXXII.,  Fig.  4  ;  Lavarthe,  IV.  176. 

2  Fleury,  XXXIII.   1. 


308 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


Vallombrosa.  The  grand  figure  of  the  Christ,  girt  round 
the  loins  with  a  striped  abbeyeli,  stands  only  ankle-deep  in  a 
pure  rill  of  the  Jordan,  which  is  fed  by  a  spring  gushing  out 
of  the  living  rock.  His  hands  are  folded,  palm  to  palm,  in 


The  Baptism.     (Yerrocchio.) 


earnest  prayer.  On  His  left,  with  one  foot  in  the  water, 
stands  the  stern,  haggard,  and  awestruck  Baptist,  in  his 
robe  of  camel's  hair.  In  his  left  hand  he  holds  a  cross 
and  a  scroll  inscribed  with  the  words,  Ecce  Agnus  Dei. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       309 


His  right  hand  empties  the  patera  above  the  cruciform 
nimbus,  which  surrounds  the  long,  dark,  curling  locks  of 
the  Saviour,  over  which,  beneath  two  outspread  hands  and 
streaming  rays  of  light,  descends  the  radiant  dove.  On 
the  right  of  Christ,  two  beautiful  angels  kneel  on  the 
rocks  underneath  a  palm-tree,  in  wonder  and  adoration. 
The  nearer  one,  holding  the  towel,  is  traditionally  assigned 
to  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  who  was  .then  only  a  youth  of 
seventeen  in  the  studio  of  Verrocchio.  The  extreme 
beauty  and  nobleness  of  form  in  this  figure,  the  long 
and  lustrous  curls  which  flow  under  his  nimbus,  the 
innocent  glory  of  his  face,  the  lustre  of  his  eyes,  as  well 
as  the  master!}'  folds  of  the  drapery  and  the  painting  of 
the  rich  jewels  which  form  the  embroidery  of  his  tunic, 
make  this  one  of  the 
most  charming  figures 
which  Leonardo  ever 
painted.  The  still  and 
solemn  landscape,  the 
grand  figures,  the  noble 
feeling  of  the  whole 
picture,  testify  to  Ver- 
rocchio's  greatness ;  but 
tradition  tells  us  that, 
thinking  himself  to  have 
been  surpassed  "  by  the 
boy  Leonardo,  he  would 
thenceforth  paint  no 
more.1 

As  one  more  specimen 
of  a  later  mode  of  treat- 
ment, T  add  a  sketch  of 
the  picture  by  Piero  dei  Franceschi,2  in  the  National  Gallery. 

1  See  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  II.  407-409.     Richter,  Leonardo,  pp.  6,  7. 
There  is  an  unsatisfactory  Baptism  by  Paris  Bordone  in  the  Brera. 

2  Erroneously  called  Piero  della  Francesca,  as  though  named  from  his 
mother.     His  contemporary,   Fra    Luca    Pacioli,  calls  him   Petrus  de 


Piero  del  Franceschi. 


310  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

It  is  interesting,  as  his  pictures  always  are.  Christ  stands 
under  a  pomegranate  tree,  ankle-deep  in  the  water.  Three 
fair,  rose-crowned  angels  watch  the  scene.  In  the  distance 
is  the  very  life-like  figure  of  a  man  who  has  been  baptized, 
and  is  drawing  his  shirt  over  his  head.1 

THE    TEMPTATION. 

"  Ideo  tentatus  est  Christus  ne  vincatur  a  Tentatore  Christianus. "  — 
Aug.  in  Ps.  ix. 

The  Temptation  of  Jesus  in  the  wilderness  has  never 
been  a  common  theme  of  Art.  It  has  been  felt  to  be 
too  solemn,  too  subjective.  Painters  like  Raphael  and 
Albrecht  Diirer  instinctively  avoided  it.  No  effort  to 
shadow  it  forth  is  found  in  early  Christian  monuments, 
and  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been  attempted  till  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  age-long  reserve  of  Christian  artists 
was  first  broken  by  the  illuminators  of  missals  and  manu- 
scripts, and  in  their  pages  we  find  the  first  approaches  to 
natural,  as  opposed  to  purely  symbolic,  treatment.  They 
permitted  themselves  greater  freedom,  because  their  illu- 
minations were  in  books,  and  were  only  seen  by  monks 
and  scholars. 

The  earliest  known  Temptation  of  Christ  is  found  in 
the  celebrated  manuscript  of  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  of 
Nazianzus  in  the  ninth  century.2  It  represents  Christ 
standing  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  in  a  violet  robe 
(which  is  the  favourite  colour  of  early  tradition  for  Christ's 
vesture).3  In  His  left  hand  He  holds  a  roll ;  with  His 
right  He  warns  the  Devil,  who  is  represented  as  a  black 

Fanciscis.  He  is  sometimes  called  Pietro  da  Borgo  San  Sepolcro,  and 
di  Benedetto. 

1  There  is  another  Baptism  in  the  National  Gallery  by  some  pupil 
in  the  school  of  Taddeo  Gaddi  (No.  579),  but  it  is  chiefly  remarkable  for 
its  careful  symmetry.     It  was  painted  in  1387. 

2  Paris.     Sibliotheque  Nationale.    MS.  510. 
SFleury,  XXXVI.,  Fig.  1. 


SEPARATE  INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       311 


and  winged  youth  in  a  light  green  cincture.     Satan  treads 
with  one  foot  on  the  air,  and  with  the  other  seems  to 
indicate  the  words,  "cast  Thyself  down."     The  head  of 
Christ  is  surround- 
ed   by    a    nimbus, 
and   He  bends  on 
the    Evil    Spirit   a 
look  of  the  calmest 
majesty. 

There  is  a  Temp- 
tation by  Duccio 
(New  Gallery, 
1894),  in  which 
Satan  is  shewing 
to  Christ  "all  the 
kingdoms  of  the 
world,"  represent- 
ed by  towers  and 
cities.  There  are 
two  angels  at  the 
right.  The  first 
Temptation  is  vig- 
orously represent- 
ed by  Lucas  van  Ley  den  in  his  plates  for  the  New  Tes- 
tament.1 The  sovereign  tact  of  the  great  Renaissance 
painters  kept  them  from  handling  an  impossible  subject. 

There  is  a  Temptation  by  Perugino  in  the  Vatican,  by 
Botticelli  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  by  Tintoret  in  the 
Scuola  di  San  Rocco.  Tintoret  makes  the  Tempter  a 
beautiful  angel,  with  an  evil  face.  "  The  picture  owes 
great  part  of  its  effect  to  the  lustre  of  the  jewels  in  the 
armlet  of  this  evil  angel  and  to  the  beautiful  colour  of 
his  wings.  The  armlet  is  seen  by  reflected  light,  its 

1  Mrs.  Jameson  gives  a  sketch  of  this  curious  picture,  in  which  Satan 
is  an  old  bearded  man,  whose  cowl  resembles  a  fool's  cap,  and  whose 
clawed  hoof  is  seen  under  his  long  robe.  In  St.  Mark's,  at  Venice,  the 
Tempter  is  a  black  monster,  with  tail  and  claws  and  horns. 


312  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

stones  shining  by  inward  lustre,  this  occult  fire  being  the 
only  hint  given  of  the  real  character  of  the  Tempter. 
There  is  a  peculiar  subtlety  in  this  telling  of  the  story  by 
so  slight  a  circumstance  as  the  glare  of  the  jewels  in  the 
darkness."  l 

Of  modern  pictures,  the  best  known  is  that  by  Ary 
Scheffer,  which  does  not,  however,  introduce  any  new  or 
striking  element. 

It  is  curious  that  the  conclusion  of  the  Temptation, 
"  And,  behold,  angels  came  and  ministered  unto  Him,"  is 
left  to  be  handled  by  such  inferior  masters  as  Vasari, 
Lodovico  Carracci,  and  Le  Brun. 


THE  SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT. 

This  scene  has  never  been  made  the  subject  of  any 
great  and  specially  memorable  picture,  although  Claude 
gives  that  name  to  one  of  his  landscapes.  It  has  been 
attempted  once  or  twice  —  but  never  successfully,  or  with 
any  real  suggestiveness  —  in  modern  times. 


THE  MIRACLES. 

The  Miracles  of  Christ  are  but  rarely  the  theme  of  Art. 
In  attempting  to  paint  them,  the  picture  is  often  made 
less  suitable  for  purposes  of  devotion,  because  the  atten- 
tion is  fixed  on  a  single  act,  and  may  easily  be  distracted 
from  the  glory  of  the  central  figure  by  the  multitude  of 
accessories. 

Some,  however,  of  the  Miracles  have  been  much  more 
frequently  represented  than  others.  Among  these  is  that 
of  turning  water  into  wine  in  the  marriage  which  Christ 
"  beautified  with  His  presence  and  the  first  miracle  which 
He  wrought  in  Cana  of  Galilee." 

One  of  the  earliest  sketches  of  the  scene  is  found  on 

1  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  41. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS  OF   THE   MINISTRY.       313 

the  grand  sarcophagus  at  the  Lateran.1  The  youthful 
Christ  is  holding  up  in  His  left  hand  the  ends  of  His 
pallium.  In  His  right  is  a  rod  with  which  He  is  touching 
the  central  waterpot  of  stone.  The  extreme  simplicity 


of  the  symbolism  contrasts  in  a  very  striking  way  with  the 
lavish  splendour  of  such  pictures  as  that  by  Paolo  Vero- 
2  His  paintings  are  full  of  charm,  but  even  when 


uese." 


1  Fleury,  XXXVII.,  Fig.  2.     Other  instances  are  given  by  Aringhi. 

2  He  painted  the  Miracle  at  least  four  times  on  huge  canvases.     The 
one  at  Dresden  is  the  largest,  and  contains  130  figures.     At  the  right  of 
Christ  he  has  placed  Francis  I.,  Charles  V.,  the  Sultan  Solyman  II.,  and 
Queen   Mary  Tudor.     The   bride   is   a  portrait  of   Eleanor  of   Austria, 
Queen  of  France,   behind  whom    stands  her  court-jester.      The    four 
musicians  are  portraits  of  Titian,  Tintoret,  Bassano,  and  Paolo  himself. 
Such  a  picture  hardly  belongs  to  the  region  of  religious  Art. 


314  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

nominally  religious,  really  belong  to  the  class  of  "  novel- 
pictures."  He  represents  his  Marriage  at  Cana  in  a  blaze 
of  worldly  pomp.  The  Venetian  sumptuosity  of  imagina- 
tion made  him  revel  in  rich  colours,  magnificent  palaces, 
architectural  perspective,  glowing  lights,  and  jewelled 
robes.  He  was  in  his  way  a  sincerely  religious  man  ;  but 
his  religion  was  that  of  Venice  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
sixteenth  century  (1588),  and  he  thought  that  the  nomi- 
nally sacred  character  of  his  subject  sufficiently  conse- 
crated everything  which  he  cared  to  introduce  into  the 
canvas.  Even  when  he  worked  for  churches  and  cloisters, 
he  fancied  that  the  theme  itself  sanctified  every  superb 
extravagance  of  his  imagination.  He  painted  mainly  to 
please  himself,  and  to  please  his  patrons.  With  the  strong 
naturalistic  tendencies  which  he  had  imbibed,  and  the 
prevailing  conventionalism  of  the  religious  feeling  of  his 
day,  he  expressed  his  views  with  the  utmost  naivete*  when 
he  was  called  to  account  by  the  Holy  Inquisition.1  They 
were  alarmed  and  offended  by  the  fact  that  he  had  intro- 
duced into  his  picture  of  Christ  at  the  Feast  of  the  House 
of  Levi,  at  Venice,  one  servant  slyly  drinking  wine  as  he 

1  The  report  of  Veronese's  trial  was  found  by  M.  Armand  Basquet  in 
the  Venetian  archives.  In  answer  to  the  questions  of  the  Inquisition 
about  his  Last  Supper,  he  says  that  "  he  works  according  to  the  fashion 
of  painters  and  fools,  and  has  found  no  other  way  to  express  the  fact 
that  the  master  of  the  house  was  rich  and  lived  splendidly,"  than  by 
introducing  Germans  with  halberds,  a  buffoon  with  a  parrot  on  his 
wrist,  a  servant  who  has  met  with  an  accident  which  has  set  his  nose 
bleeding,  etc.  "  I  believe,  to  tell  the  truth,  that,  at  that  Supper  there 
were  only  Christ  and  the  Apostles,  but  when  in  a  picture  there  is  a  space 
left,  I  fill  it  with  figures  of  my  invention." 

Q.  "  But  does  it  seem  decent  to  you,  in  the  Last  Supper  of  our  Lord,  to 
represent  buffoons,  drunken  Germans,  dwarfs,  and  other  stupidities  ?  Do 
you  not  know  that  in  Germany  and  other  countries  infested  by  heresies, 
this  is  done  to  ridicule  the  holy  things  of  the  Church  ?" 

Veronese  appeals  to  the  nudities  of  Michael  Angelo's  Last  Judgment. 

Q.  "  But  do  you  think  that  that  was  proper  or  decent  ?  " 

"My  very  illustrious  Lords,"  replied  the  painter,  "I  had  not  taken 
such  matters  into  consideration.  I  was  far  from  imagining  such  irregu- 
larities. /  paint  with  such  study  as  is  natural  to  me,  and  as  my  mind 
can  comprehend." 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS  OF  THE   MINISTRY.       315 

descends  the  stairs  to  the  right,  and  a  negro  dressed  in 
scarlet  teasing  a  parrot,  as  well  as  "fools,  drunken  Ger- 
mans, dwarfs,  and  other  follies."  He  appealed  to  Michael 
Angelo's  paintings  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  and  answered,  in 
general  with  charming  simplicity,  that  he  did  not  see  any- 
thing unbecoming  in  thus  indulging  his  fancy  in  mere 
details.  He  was  ordered  to  amend  his  picture  within 
three  months  at  his  own  expense,  but  it  is  very  doubtful 
whether  he  ever  did  so.  He  might  have  defended  him- 
self effectually  by  the  example  of  Giotto,  who  boldly 
introduced  genre  elements  when  he  represents  the  "gov- 
ernor of  the  feast"  as  "a  fat  gourmand,  drinking  off  a 
goblet  of  wine  with  a  mixture  of  wonder  and  enjoyment." 

But  whatever  may  be  the  drawbacks  of  the  colossal  can- 
vases of  Paolo  Veronese  regarded  as  sacred  Art,  they  have 
an  unquestionably  human  beauty  of  festal  cheerfulness  and 
magnificence.  He  infused  into  a  sunken  period  of  Art  a 
bright  vitality  and  a  poetic  feeling  which  were,  indeed, 
addressed  more  to  the  senses  than  to  the  soul,  "though 
even  the  most  superficial  of  his  innumerable  works  have  a 
breadth  of  grace  and  a  plenitude  of  life,  which,  at  that 
time,  had  entirely  departed  from  other  schools." l 

Tintoretto  also  painted  The  Marriage  of  Cana  on  a 
large  scale,  and  in  a  genre  manner  in  the  Church  of  the 
Salute  at  Venice.  His  treatment  differs  from  that  of 
Veronese,  because  the  scene  is  rightly  made  domestic, 
rather  than  princely,  and  because  the  actual  facts  of  the 
miracle  are  at  least  put  in  the  forefront.2 

THE   MIRACULOUS   DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES. 

The  earliest  representations  of  the  Call  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  seem  to  be  on  an 
ancient  ivory.3 

1  See  Kugler,  II.  464. 

2  There  is  a  smaller  copy  in  the  Uffizi  at  Florence. 
8  Mamachi,  Antiq.  Christianas,  1755. 


316 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 


The  subject  is  not  found  in  the  Catacombs,  but  is  repre- 
sented in  that  noble  treasure-house  of  early  Christian 
Art,  the  sixth-century  mosaics  of  the  Church  of  St.. 
Apollinaris  at  Ravenna.  Christ,  marked  by  His  cruciform 
nimbus,  and  clad  in  a  violet  robe,  stands  on  the  shore  and 


blesses  St.  Peter  and  St.  Andrew  in  their  boat.  Behind 
Him  is  another  figure.  St.  Peter  in  his  fisher's  coat  is 
dragging  in  the  net.  A  typical  dolphin  is  swimming  in 
the  waves  below.1 

Of  modern  treatments  of  the  scene,  the  reader  will  at 
once  recall  the  famous  cartoon  of  Raphael.  It  is  perhaps 
the  most  pleasing  of  all  his  cartoons.  Christ  sits  in  the 
stern  of  the  boat,  which  is  sinking  almost  to  its  gunwale 
with  the  load  of  fish  —  many  of  them  (we  observe)  of 
kinds  which  could  not  possibly  have  existed  in  the  lake. 
St.  Peter  is  on  his  knees  in  the  midst  of  the  draught,  and 
St.  Andrew  stands  with  arms  outspread  in  astonishment. 
On  the  other  boat  Zebedee  and  his  two  sons  are  toiling  at 
the  nets.  Three  large  cranes  are  enjoying  their  share  of 

1  Fleury,  XL  1. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       317 

the  fish  on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  quite  heedless  of  all  the 
stir.  They  are  the  first  objects  which  attract  the  eye. 
They  have  great  pictorial  value,  but  Mr.  Watkiss  Lloyd 
conjectures  that  Raphael  introduced  them  symbolically. 
He  supposes  that  the  crane,  like  the  stork,  is  an  emblem 
of  filial  affection,  and  that  their  introduction  symbolizes 
the  fact  that  James  and  John  are  about  to  leave  their 
father.1 


MIRACLES  OF   HEALING. 

No  paintings  of  Christ's 
work,  as  "the  Good  Phy- 
sician," seem  to  occur  before 
the  fifth  and  sixth  cen- 
turies. I  furnish  two  of  the 
most  ancient  attempts  to  in- 
dicate the  healing  of  the 
demoniac.  The  first  is  from 
a  fifth-century  ivory  which 
forms  the  cover  of  an  Evan- 
gel iarium  in  the  library  of 
Ravenna.  The  beardless 
Christ  holds  His  cross  and 
blesses  a  poor  demoniac, 
who,  in  accordance  with  the 
old  simple  symbolism,  is  of 
smaller  size.  The  sufferer  is 
still  fettered,  and  manacled, 
and  stands  in  a  distorted 
attitude.  The  evil  spirit, 
with  a  wild  gesture  of  horror, 
is  issuing  from  his  head.2 

1  Christianity  in  the  Cartoons  of  Raphael,  pp.  30-36.     He  adduces  one 
of  the  emblems  on  the  Emlihmata  Dirini  Amoris,  in  which  the  soul 
renouncing  earthly  affections  is  indicated  by  a  figure  waving  away  a 
Stork,  which  carries  its  young  on  its  back. 

2  Fleury,  XLII.  3. 


318 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN    ART. 


The  other  is  an  almost  unique  symbol  of  the  miracle  at 
Gadara,  in  the   Church  of   St.  Apollinaris.     The  healed 


demoniac  kneels  beside  his  cavern-tomb,    at  the  feet  of 
Christ,  in  a  posture  of  adoring  gratitude.     The  youthful 


Christ,  marked  as  usual  by  His  violet  robe  and  crossed 
nimbus,  stretches  His  hand  toward  the  sufferer.     Behind 


SEPARATE  INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.        319 

Him  an  Apostle  in  a  white  robe,  and  without  a  nimbus, 
uplifts  his  open  palm  in  the  conventional  gesture  of  admi- 
ration. On  the  other  side,  three  of  the  swine  are  rushing 
to  their  doom.1 

The  healing  of  the  paralytic  who  was  let  down  through 
the  roof  in  his  bed,  is  also  found  in  St.  Apollinaris.  It 
aims  at  nothing  but  to  recall  the  memory  of  the  scene. 
It  is  an  interesting  and  not  unfrequent  detail  that  the 
back  of  the  paralytic's  couch  is  formed  by  dolphins, 
the  traditional  emblems  of  deliverance  which  Christian 
Art  borrowed  from  heathen  mythology.2 


This  detail  is  found  again  in  a  sculpture  of  the  raising 
of  the  daughter  of  Jairus.  The  healing  of  the  woman 
with  the  issue  is  represented  on  a  fine  fourth-century 
sarcophagus  now  in  the  Museum  at  Aries.3 

The  earliest  picture  of  the  healings  of  the  lame  and 
blind  is  found  in  an  illumination  in  the  famous  Syriac 
Bible  at  Florence,  which  is  of  the  sixth  century-.  Its 
very  simplicity  renders  it  effective  in  telling  its  intended 
tale.  Six  miracles  of  opening  the  eyes  of  the  blind  are 
narrated  in  the  Gospels.  One  other  specimen,  from  a 


Fleury,  XLII.  1. 


Id.  XLIII.  1. 


3  Id.  XLIV.  1. 


320 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


fourth-century   sarcophagus,    now    in    the    Lateran,    may 

suffice  to  shew  the  general 
mode  of  treatment.1 

The  healing  of  the  im- 
potent man  at  the  Pool 
of  Bethesda  was,  for  some 
reason,  an  exception  to 
the  rule  that  the  miracles 
are  rarely  represented  in 
the  Catacombs.  It  occurs 
not  unfrequently.2 

The  first,  which  repre- 
sents   the    impotent    man 
carrying  his  bed,  is  from 
the  Catacomb  of  St.  Ag- 
nes.3    The  second  is  from  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus.4 
Both  are  of  the  thirii  century.     The  third  is  from  a  sar- 


1  Fleory,  IL  lix.,  Fig.  1. 

3  The  chef  d'oeuvre  of  Erasmus  Quellynn  is  the  Pool  of  Bethesda, 
and  there  is  a  well-known  modern  picture  of  the  scene  hy  Edwin  Long. 
.The  subject  was  sometimes  required  for  hospitals,  and  was  treated  by 
I*.  Carracci,  X.  Poussin.  and  MurQlo. 

»  Fleury,  LL  2 ;  Ferret,  IL  34.  *  Fleury,  LI.  2.  Fig.  3. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY. 


cophagus  now  in  the  Lateran,  which  was  brought  from 
the  Vatican  cemetery.  It  represents  the  whole  scene.  In 
the  lower  part  the 

sufferer     holds     his  ^_         , . ..  -          ~ 

hand  to  his  head  in  I  MT^L     /^, 

sign  of  anguish,  and 
as  though  to  implore 
mercy,  while  other 
sufferers  pray  and 
plead  on  either  side 
of  Him.  A  wavy 
line,  symbolizing  the 
pool,  separates  the 
lower  from  the  up- 
per compartment,  in 
which  the  diminu- 
figure  of  the 
healed  paralytic  is 
carrving  away  his 
bed  "amid  the  admir-  Mipaetes  *  ***** 

ing  gestures  of  the  other  sick.1 

Christ's  mercy  to  the  Syrophoenician  woman  seems  to 
have  been  only  treated  by  Annibale  Carracci,  who  repre- 
sents the  woman  as  pointing  to  a  dog  in  mute  appeal. 

Rembrandt  has  a  large  etching  of  Christ  healing  the 
sick,  and  it  is  the  subject  of  an  interesting  picture  in 
the  National  Gallery  by  Benjamin  West,  painted  for  the 
Quaker  Hospital  at  Philadelphia.  It  is  a  curious  circum- 
stance that  many  of  the  pictures  of  this  subject  are  by 
the  seventeenth-century  painters,  such  as  Nicolas  Poussin 
and  the  Carraccis.  Nicolas  Poussin's  picture  of  Christ 
healing  the  blind  man  of  Jericho  is  in  the  Louvre.  There 
is  another  of  the  same  subject  by  Lodovico  Carracci,  now 
in  London.2  The  painting  of  Christ  making  the  dumb  to 
sing,  by  a  deaf  and  dumb  painter  itt  the  Margate  Institu- 
tion, is  interesting  from  its  locality  and  its  origin. 


1  Fleury,  LI.  4. 


3  Given  in  outline  by  Rosini,  VL  7. 

T 


322 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


The  multiplication  of  the  loaves  was  another  favourite 
subject  from  its  eucharistic  character,  and  because  it  was 
suitable  for  monastic  refectories.  Of  the  numerous  repre- 
sentations, I  choose  one  of  the  third  century  from  the 
great  sarcophagus  of  the  Lateran.1  All  the  subsequent 
sketches  and  sculptures  shew,  as  Monsieur  Fleury  says,  a 
marked  continuity  of  tradition.  One  of  the  disciples 
holds  the  basket  of  bread,  and  the  other,  the  plate  of 
fish,  on  which  Christ's  hand  rests  in  benediction.  At  His 
feet  are  the  six  large  baskets  (o-Trf/at'Se?,  Vulgate  sportae). 


When  the  other  miracle  of  feeding  the  multitude  is  in- 
tended, there  are  five  smaller  baskets  (KO^IVOI,  cophini). 
The  symbolic  simplicity  of  these  representations  has  more 
charm  than  is  derivable  from  the  few  rare  attempts  at 

1  Fleury,  Vol.  II.,  p.  Ivi.,  Fig.  3. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       323 

realistic  elaborations.  No  painter,  in  representing  the  two 
miracles,  seems  to  have  noticed  that  the  former  miracle, 
which  was  performed  on  the  little  plain  of  El  Buttauf,  to 
the  north  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  was  in  the  summer,  and 
the  latter,  west  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  in  the  autumn. 
In  the  former  miracle  the  people  are  bidden  to  sit  down 
on  the  green  grass,  and  their  bright-coloured  Eastern 
robes,  as  they  sat  in  ranks  (jrpaa-ial  Trpaaial,  literally  "by 
garden-beds"),  reminded  St.  Peter  —  as  we  see  in  the  nar- 
rative of  his  disciple  St.  Mark  —  of  beds  of  flowers.1 

This  is  one  of  those  vivid  touches  which  might  well 
have  attracted  the  notice  of  painters,  and  given  an  accu- 
rate and  beautiful  detail  to  their  designs.  In  the  latter 
miracle  there  would  be  none  of  the  green  grass  which  St. 
Mark  mentions  in  his  Gospel  (vi.  39).  In  Palestine  it  is 
scorched  up  by  the  heat  of  summer,  and  the  people 
would  be  forced  to  sit  on  the  bare  and  dusty  ground. 

The  oldest  known  representation  of  Christ  walking  on 
the  sea  is  Giotto's  mosaic  in  the  portico  of  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome  (1298).  Perhaps  the  best  known  modern  picture 
of  the  event  is  that  by  C.  R.  Leslie. 

THE   TRANSFIGURATION. 

To  paint  the  Transfiguration  far  exceeded  the  simple 
powers  of  the  early  centuries.  Perhaps  the  earliest 
known  attempt  to  indicate  the  scene,  is  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Apollinaris  in  Classe,  near  Ravenna.  It  is.  an  apsidal 
mosaic  of  the  sixth  century.  The  only  figures  introduced, 
and  those  are  quite  diminutive,  are  half-lengths  of  Moses 
and  Elias  in  the  clouds.2  A  hand  coming  from  heaven 
indicates  the  blessing  of  the  Father.  The  transfigured 
Christ  is  shadowed  forth  by  a  jewelled  cross  in  the  centre 
of  a  circle  crowded  with  stars.  The  three  Apostles  are  sym- 

1  Mark  vi.  40.      In  the  previous  verse  it  is  <rv/iir<S<na,  ffv/j.ir6<ria.     The- 
ophylact  defines  irpa.ffLa.1  as  TO.  ev  rotj  KTJTTOIS  Sid<popa  K6/j./j.ara. 

2  Fleury,  LXIII.  2. 


324 


THE   LIFE   OF    CHRIST   IX   ART. 


bolized  by  three  sheep  on  the  green  mountain-top.     The 
mosaic  admirably  illustrates  the  power  of  symbolism. 


The  Transfiguration. 


But  little  later  in  date  than  this  is  a  neglected  mosaic 
on  the  vault  of  the  Church  of  St.  Catherine's  monastery 


The  Transfiguration. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS  OF   THE   MINISTRY.       325 

on  Mount  Sinai,  which  is  also  simple  and  full  of  force.1 
Christ  stands  in  a  sort  of  mandorla,  a  little  above  the  earth. 
Moses  and  Elias  stand  on  the  same  level  as  the  apostles. 
James  and  John  are  kneeling  on  either  side,  with  uplifted 
hands  of  awe.  Peter  has  prostrated  himself  on  the  ground 
and  hides  his  face  from  the  exceeding  glory. 


The  Transfiguration.      (.Fra  Angelico.) 


When  we  look  at  such  simple  early  representations,  we 
see  at  a  glance  that  the  artists  desired  only  to  tell  their 

1  Fleury,  LXIIL,  Fig.  1. 


326  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

tale  aright.  They  thought  neither  of  themselves  nor  of 
their  own  skill,  but  simply  and  solely  of  their  sacred 
theme.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Fra  Angelico's  picture 
in  San  Marco.  There  the  majestic  figure  of  Jesus  — 
majestic  in  spite  of  the  tender  sadness  of  His  expression  — 
stands  with  arms  outstretched  as  on  the  cross ;  Moses  and 
Elias  are  on  either  side,  and  underneath  them  St.  Domi- 
nic and  St.  Clara.  Below  the  actual  summit  kneels  the 
youthful  St.  John  in  prayer.  St.  Peter  and  St.  James 
are  also  on  their  knees,  and  shade  their  eyes  from  the 
glorified  visage  and  the  glistering  garments,  white  as 
snow  and  more  lustrous  than  any  fuller  on  earth  could 
whiten  them. 

How  different  is  the  Transfiguration  by  Raphael  at 
Rome !  It  was  his  last  work  (1510),  finished  by  Giulio 
Romano.  It  hung  over  his  bier  when  he  passed  away, 
worn  out  with  his  immense  labours  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
seven,  and  all  Rome  wept  at  his  loss.  No  one  who  sees 
this  picture  can  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  contrast  between 
the  peace  on  the  summit  of  Tabor,  and  the  tumult  belo\v, 
where  the  agonized  father  is  vainly  asking  help  for  his 
convulsed  demoniac  boy.1  And  yet  the  picture  does  not 
satisfy  us.  It  is  meant  to  be  devotional,  and  not  a  mere 
memorial  transcript  of  the  fact.  Yet  we  lose  the  thought 
of  the  Transfigured  Christ  in  admiration  for  the  passion, 
the  learning,  the  marvellous  skill  of  the  painter,  and  there 
is  nothing  to  impress  or  overcome  us  in  what  Mr.  Ruskin 
calls  "  the  kicking  gracefulness  "  of  the  Lawgiver  and  the 
Old  Testament  forerunner.2  In  some  way,  perhaps  inde- 

1  Mr.  W.  Watkiss  Lloyd  points  out  that  the  disciple  with  the  book  in 
front  is  sitting  by  the  edge  of  a  pool,  in  which  his  foot  is  reflected,  and  is 
seated  on  logs  of  wood  ;  with  distinct  reference,  as  he  thinks,  to  the  demon 
casting  the  boy  often  into  the  water  and  the  fire.  —  Christ  in  the  Cartoons, 
p.  283. 

2  "  Raphael,  himself,   after  profoundly  studying   the  arabesques  of 
Pompeii  and  of  the  palace  of  the  Caesars,  beguiled  the  tedium,  and  illus- 
trated the  spirituality  of  the  converse  of  Moses  and  Elias  with  Christ 
concerning  His  decease,  which  He  should  accomplish  at  Jerusalem,  by 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       327 

finable,  }-et  none  the  less  distinctly  felt,  the  picture  seems 
to  lack  the  deep  sincerity  of  the  older  painters,  and  even 
of  the  ancient  symbolism.  Their  "modesty  of  fearful 
duty  "  moves  us  more  than  all  this  splendour  of  pictorial 
eloquence.1  And  yet  we  can  imagine  how  and  why  men 
sobbed  as  they  looked  from  the  beautiful  dead  face  of  the 
painter  to  his  great  unfinished  work. 

The  Transfiguration  of  L.  Carracci  at  Bologna  is  chiefly 
noticeable  for  its  exaggeration.  The  Apostles  are  painted 
in  convulsive  postures,  and  even  the  Saviour  is  repre- 
sented in  an  attitude  of  violent  gesticulation. 

THE    RAISING   OF  LAZARUS. 

The  Raising  of  Lazarus,  as  the  type  and  pledge  of  the 
Resurrection  of  the  Body,  was  perhaps  the  favourite  illus- 
tration in  the  Catacombs.  We  have  already  furnished 
some  specimens  of  the  almost  unvarying  type.  One  of 
the  earliest,  in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Prsetextatus,  presents 
the  simplest  form  of  the  scene,  and  it  varies  but  little  in 
later  ages.2  The  reader  may  perhaps  look  with  curiosity 
at  the  accompanying  relief  of  the  eleventh  century,  in  the 
Byzantine  style,  now  in  Chichester  Cathedral.3 

In  mediaeval  pictures,  Mary  of  Bethany  is  constantly 
represented  with  long,  dishevelled  hair,  because  she  is  con- 
fused with  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner. 

placing  them  above  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  in  the  attitudes  of  two 
humniing-birds  on  the  top  of  a  honeysuckle.  But  the  best  of  these  orna- 
mental arrangements  were  insufficient  to  sustain  the  vivacity,  while  they 
conclusively  undermined  the  sincerity,  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  the 
real  consequences  of  the  acceptance  of  this  kind  (Roman  bath  and 
sarcophagus  kind)  of  religious  idealism,  were  instant  and  manifold." 
—  On  the  Old  Eoad,  I.  329.  See  Modern  Painters,  III.  55. 

1  The  figures  of  St.  Julian  and  St.  Laurence  adoring,  at  the  left,  were 
introduced  at  the  request  of  Giulio  de'  Medici,  in  honour  of  his  uncles, 
Giuliamo  and  Lorenzo. 

2  Fleury,  LXVI.  1. 

3  The  treatment  of  the  subject  by  Tintoret,  in  San  Rocco,  is  unsatis- 
factory.    See,  however,  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  339. 


328  THE  LIFE   OF  CHRIST  IN  ART. 

The  most  ambitious  delineation  of  this  scene  in  medi- 
aeval Art  is  the  large  picture  by  Sebastian  del  Piombo  in 
our  National  Gallery  ^A.D.  1519).  Sebastian  Luciani, 
called  "  Del  Piombo,"  because  in  1531  Clement  VII.  made 
him  keeper  of  the  Leaden  Seal,  was  employed  to  finish 


some  of  the  designs  of  Michael  Angelo,  who  thought  that 
he  could  make  him  a  successful  rival  to  Raphael.  He 
began  as  a  pupil  of  Bellini,  but  afterwards  imitated  Gior- 
gione.  This  huge  —  but  hardly  great  —  picture  was 
painted  for  Cardinal  Giulio  de'  Medici,  in  a  sort  of  emulous 
competition  with  Raphael's  Transfiguration.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  that  Michael  Angelo  rendered  to  Sebastian 
material  assistance  in  the  composition  and  design.  Strain- 
ing effort  is  manifest  throughout,  and  a  total  lack  of  de- 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE  MINISTRY.        329 

votional  spontaneity.  The  painter  is  thinking  exclusively 
of  the  effectiveness  of  his  picture,  not  of  the  miracle  of 
Christ's  mercy.  Jesus,  with  one  hand  uplifted  to  heaven, 
and  the  other  pointing  to  Lazarus,  has  just  said,  "  Loose 
him  and  let  him  go."  Behind  him  St.  John  is  arguing 
with  incredulous  Pharisees.  The  face  of  Lazarus  is  still 
deeply  overshadowed  by  the  shroud,  but  his  eye  is  fixed 
on  Christ.  Behind  him  is  Martha,  half  horrified  by  what 
she  sees,  and  other  women  who  hold  their  noses  in  allusion 
to,  "  Lord,  by  this  time  he  hath  seen  corruption."  This, 
however,  is,  at  this  stage  of  the  miracle,  a  needless  and 
highly  offensive  anachronism,  borrowed  unwisely  from 
earlier  painters  like  Duccio  and  Giotto,  and  even  (being 
traditional)  Fra  Angelico.  Three  men  are  removing  the 
heavy  stone  of  the  sepulchre.  Mary  is  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus.  The  painting  is  the  work  of  an  able  artist,  but 
does  not  add  a  single  element  of  thought  or  devotion  to 
the  mind  of  the  spectator.  Nor  could  any  truly  great  or 
moving  work  of  Art  spring  out  of  mean  and  feverish 
competition.  It  is  noteworthy  that  many  of  the  greatest 
masters,  except  Raphael,  Fra  Bartolommeo,  and  Titian, 
avoided  this  subject.  It  is  still  more  astonishing  that  so 
very  few  painters,  and  these  only  of  later  and  inferior 
schools,  like  the  Carraccis,  have  dealt  with  the  Raising  of 
the  Daughter  of  Jairus,  or  of  the  Son  of  the  Widow  of 
Nain. 

THE   PARABLES. 

Pictures  from  the  Parables  do  not  properly  belong  to 
the  Life  of  Christ.  In  early  Art  they  are  extremely  rare, 
nor  are  they  common  in  mediseval  or  modern  galleries. 
They  chiefly  occur  in  the  German  and  Venetian  schools, 
especially  in  the  prolific  school  of  Bassano.  The  appended 
mosaic  of  The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  full  of  force  and 
expressiveness,  though  the  elements  of  it  are  so  simple,  is 
from  the  Church  of  St.  Apollinaris  Nuovo  at  Ravenna. 


330 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN    ART. 


The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican. 


The  Parable  of  the  Sower  has  been  illustrated  by  a  fine 
picture  of  Mr.  Edwin  Long,  the  last  which  he  painted. 

It  occupies  a  very 
large  canvas.  The 
scene  is  a  little  bay 
of  the  Sea  of  Gali- 
lee. The  time  is 
shortly  before  sun- 
set. The  crowd  on 
the  shore  is  com- 
posed of  many  na- 
tionalities, of  all 
ranks,  and  of  every 
age.  Jesus  is  seat- 
ed in  a  boat,  and 
His  face  unites  manly  strength  with  feminine  tenderness. 
The  moment  is  chosen  when  He  has  just  ceased  to  speak, 
though  His  face  and  eyes  are  still  shining  with  silent 
eloquence.  The  hands  are  delicate,  yet  full  of  strength. 
Between  the  finger  and  thumb  of  one  hand  He  holds  the 
grain  of  wheat  which  has  helped  to  point  the  illustration, 
and  two  wheat-ears  lie  on  His  knee  beside  the  other  hand, 
which  is  outspread  in  appeal  to  His  hearers. 

The  Parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus  has  not,  I  think, 
been  often  painted.  There  is  an  interesting  example  in 
the  Venice  Academy  by  Bonifazio,  treated  somewhat 
in  the  genre  style.  Dives  sits  drinking  wine  between 
two  beautiful,  fair-haired,  richly  dressed  women  to  whom 
two  musicians  are  playing,  while  another  fair  maiden  is 
singing.  The  score  is  held  by  a  negro  boy  dressed 
in  crimson.  Outside  the  pillared  portico  Lazarus  begs 
for  alms  upon  his  knees,  and  a  dog  licks  his  sores.  A 
symbolic  burning  house  is  seen  in  the  distance  of  the 
landscape,  and  in  the  background  are  groups  of  youths 
flying  hawks,  or  training  steeds,  while  under  the  green 
arch  of  a  garden  walk  are  seen  two  lovers. 

The  Parables  were  chiefly  made  the  subjects  of  pictures 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF  THE   MINISTRY.        331 

in  the  Venetian  and  the  German  schools.  The  Good 
Samaritan  has  been  painted  by  Paul  Veronese,  Bassano,1 
Rembrandt,  and  modern  painters.  The  Lost  Drachm  is 
the  subject  of  a  fine  sketch  by  Sir  John  Millais. 

I  have  not  met  with  many  ancient  pictures  of  the 
Prodigal  Son,  though  the  subject  has  often  been  touch- 
ingly  rendered  in  modern  pictures  of  all  nations. 

The  most  pathetic  representation  of  it  in  the  Middle 
Ages  is  that  by  Albrecht  Diirer.  The  original  sketch  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  The  youth  is  seated  in  the  deepest 
degradation  in  a  sort  of  German  farmyard.  Not  a  living 
being  is  with  him.  He  is  sitting  in  rags  among  the  swine, 
which  are  so  painted  as  to  bring  out  the  conception  of 
their  revolting  animalism.  The  engraving  seems  to  be 
earlier  than  1500,  and  it  is  a  touching  circumstance  that 
the  features  of  the  Prodigal  recall  those  of  Diirer  himself. 

Murillo  painted  the  Prodigal  Son  many  times.  There 
are  four  scenes  from  the  Parables  at  Dudley  House,  and 
two  at  Stafford  House.  The  Return  of  the  Prodigal  is 
treated  with  homely  pathos.  As  he  kneels  in  rags  before 
his  father,  a  little  dog  recognizes  and  fawns  upon  him. 
On  one  side  a  servant  holds  up  a  gold  ring ;  on  the  other, 
two  servants  are  bringing  the  fatted  calf. 

Guercino's  picture  represents  the  father  clothing  his 
penitent  son  in  a  new  garment.  A  dog  fawns  on  the 
naked  youth,  whose  figure,  as  well  as  that  of  his  father, 
is  fine  and  natural. 

The  picture  by  David  Teniers  (the  younger),  painted 
in  1644,  represents  simply  a  Dutch  inn,  with  a  bush  for  a 
sign.  The  Prodigal  is  sitting  in  the  open  air  outside, 
between  two  women,  drinking  wine,  while  servants  are 
obsequiously  waiting  on  him,  and  one  is  casting  up  the 
bill.  The  grand  dress  and  sword  in  which  he  has  been 

1  National  Gallery,  No.  277.  Sir  J.  Reynolds  used  to  keep  this  picture 
in  his  studio.  The  Good  Samaritan  is  in  crimson,  with  a  silver  flask 
beside  him.  There  is  a  touch  of  irony  in  the  Levite,  who  is  behind  in 
prayer. 


332  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

"ruffling  it"  lie  on  a  chair  behind.  An  old  woman,  lean- 
ing on  a  stick,  stands  by  the  table.  In  the  distance,  on  the 
other  bank  of  a  river,  is  seen  the  Prodigal  sitting  in  his 
shame  and  solitude  among  the  swine.  It  is  an  excellent 
specimen  of  the  art  of  Teniers,  but  it  is  a  characteristic 
fact  that  the  Dutch  genre  painters  usually  select  the  scene 
of  the  Prodigal  wasting  his  substance.  In  the  Dutch 
School  we  have  Heemskerk's  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins, 
and  The  Evil  One  Solving  Tares,  by  Bluemaerts. 

There  is  a  picture  of  the  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins,  by 
Blake,  which  is  marked  by  all  his  pathetic  imaginative- 
ness. An  angel  with  a  trumpet  floats  above  them ;  his 
wavy  robes  stream  across  the  sky,  in  which,  over  the 
solemn  light,  are  dimly  seen  the  dome  and  spires  of  a  city. 
The  Wise  Virgins,  tall  and  stately,  hold  in  their  right 
hands  their  lighted  lamps.  One  of  them  points  to  the 
city  where  their  neglectful  sisters  must  go  and  buy  oil. 
One  of  the  Foolish  Virgins  gazes  with  startled  surprise  at 
the  angel  in  the  heavens.  Another,  kneeling  in  a  passion 
of  entreaty,  grasps  the  robe  of  a  Wise  Virgin  in  her  right 
hand,  while  in  her  left  hand  hangs  the  useless  chain  of  her 
extinguished  lamp.  One  bends  down  and  has  veiled  her 
face  in  despair.  The  remaining  two  are  on  their  knees, 
gazing  upwards  in  alarm  and  agony.1 

Of  separate  incidents  during  the  brief  public  ministry 
of  Jesus,  there  are  but  few  specimens  in  the  Catacombs. 
The  lovely  scene  of  Jesus  blessing  the  little  children, 
which  modern  painters  have  so  often  rendered,  occurs  but 
once  in  the  earlier  centuries.  The  appended  picture  is 
from  an  ancient  sarcophagus  now  in  the  Villa  Borghese. 
It  is  exquisite  in  its  directness,  tenderness,  and  simplicity. 
The  Christ  stands  under  an  olive  tree,  between  two  youth- 
ful disciples,  and  each  of  His  hands  is  resting  on  a  young 
boy's  head. 

We  have  but  one  picture  of  this  scene  in  the  National 
Gallery.  It  is  a  poor  picture,  bought  as  a  Rembrandt, 

1  Reproduced  in  Art  Journal,  February,  1893. 


SEPARATE  INCIDENTS  OF   THE  MINISTRY.       333 


but  perhaps  by  Nicolas  Maes.     Christ's  right  hand  is  on 

the  head  of  a  little  girl,  who  holds  an  apple  in  one  hand 

and  has  her  finger  in  her 

mouth.     It  was  a  favourite 

subject    with    Lucas    Cra- 

nach,    and   has   also    been 

treated  by  Rubens.      But 

none  of  these  painters  has 

succeeded  in  investing  it 

with  the  grace  and  tender- 
ness which  it  would  have 

received  at  the  hand  of  an 

Italian  master.    In  modern 

days  it  has  been  attempted 

by   Eastlake    (1839)    and 

Overbeck. 

The     scene     of     Christ 

Talking  to  the  Samaritan 

Woman    by   the   Well    is 

frequently   found    in    the 

Catacombs  and  the  early  illuminations.     I  give  the  earliest, 

and  one  of  the  simplest  from 
the  Catacomb  of  St.  Prsetex- 
tatus.  Martigny  dates  it 
as  far  back  as  the  second 
century. 

The  visit  of  Nicodemus 
to  Christ  by  night  has  been 
treated  by  Tintoretto,  and  as 
might  have  been  expected, 
by  Rembrandt ;  but  the  pic- 
tures suggest  no  remark. 
They  chiefly  emphasize  cer- 
tain effects  of  light  and 
darkness. 
The  Call  of  Matthew  from  the  receipt  of  custom  does 

not  seem  to  have  been  attempted  before  the  ninth  century. 


Christ  and  the  Samaritan  Woman. 


334 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


It  has  never  been  a  common  subject,  but  it  has  been  painted 
by  Mabuse,  Pordeiione,  Carracci,  and  others.  Caravaggio 
treated  it  with  his  usual  brutal  realism  in  the  Church  of  San 
Luigi  dei  Franceschi  at  Rome.  His  pictures  were  so  coarse 
and  irreligious  that  the  priests  would  have  refused  them 
altogether  but  for  the  influence  of  Cardinal  Guistiniani. 
The  chief  peculiarities  of  this  picture  are  the  vulgar  curi- 
osity of  the  spectacled  old  man,  and  the  thievish  boy  who 
pilfers  the  money  which  the  Apostle  lias  thrown  down. 

The  ambitious  request  made  by  Salome  for  her  sons, 
James  and  John,  seems  to  have  been  chiefly  a  Venetian 
subject.  It  was  treated  by  Bonifazio,  Paul  Veronese, 
and  Tintoret.  In  one  version  of  the  scene  the  two 
Apostles  are  absurdly  painted  as  two  young  boys.  The 
best  modern  picture  of  the  scene  is  that  by  C.  R.  Leslie. 

The  earliest  specimen  of  "  the  great  refusal "  by  the 
rich  young  ruler,  is  an  interesting  illumination  of  the  ninth 

century,  in  the  man- 
uscript works  of  St. 
Gregory  Nazianzen.1 
The  scene  of  the 
Woman  taken  in 
Adultery  is  not  found 
earlier  than  the  sixth 
century  in  one  of  the 
mosaics  in  St.  Apol- 
-  linaris.2  Like  all  an- 
cient pictures,  it  is 
exceedingly  calm  in 
expression,  and  tells 

its  tale  of  misery  and  mercy  with  Greek-like  dignity,  of 
which  the  traditions  still  survived  the  decadence  of  Chris- 
tian Art  in  the  East. 

Mazzolino's  picture  of  this  scene  is  in  the  Pitti,  and  is 
one  of  his  best  works.  On  the  left,  a  conscience-stricken 
Pharisee  is  hurrying  away.  Another,  who  (as  often  in 

i  Fleury,  LVIII.  6.  2  Id.  LVIII.  2.     See  next  page. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       335 

mediaeval  paintings)  wears  pince-nez,  is  stooping  down  to 
see  what  Jesus  has  written  on  the  floor.  On  the  right, 
Jesus,  full  of  majesty,  raises  His  hand  in  a  gesture  of 
warning  and  pity,  as  though  rejecting  the  legal  argu- 
ments of  the  two  hard  doctors,  who  hold,  on  either  side, 


the  poor  shamed  woman.  Two  others  whisper  together 
about  the  judgment  of  Christ,  —  "  Let  him  that  is  without 
sin  among  you  first  cast  the  stone  at  her."  Above  is  a 
basso-relievo  of  Moses  receiving  the  Law,  as  though  to 
contrast  the  sternness  of  the  Old  with  the  tenderness  of 
the  New  Dispensation.1 

Rembrandt's  Woman   Taken  in  Adultery  is  a  mere  study 
of  light  and  darkness.2     Hardly  anything  is  visible  in  it, 


1  Given  in  Rosini,  iV.  119. 

"  National  Gallery,  Xo.  45.  The  subject  was  painted  four  times  by 
Titian.  There  is  a  poor  treatment  of  the  subject  by  Tintoret  in  the 
Venetian  Academy  ;  and  another  by  Bonifazio,  which  is  full  of  confused 
figures.  Of  the  pictures  by  Paul  Veronese,  Rubens,  Giulio,  Romano, 
and  Agostino  Carracci,  there  is  nothing  to  remark. 


336  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

but  the  figure  of  the  woman  herself  in  full  light,  and 
dressed  in  white.  "  The  eye  then  passes  to  the  figure  of 
Christ,  which  next  to  her  is  the  most  strongly  lighted,  and 
so  on  to  Peter,  to  the  Pharisees,  to  the  soldiers,  till  at 
length  it  perceives  in  the  mysterious  gloom  of  the  Temple 
the  High  Altar  with  the  worshippers  on  the  steps." 1 

Nicolas  Poussin's  Woman  Taken  in  Adultery  is  in  the 
Louvre,  and  is  a  favourable  specimen  of  the  master.  The 
sinful  woman  is  represented  with  great  skill  in  the  self- 
abasement  of  genuine  penitence,  and  the  emotion  of  the 
conscience-stricken  Pharisees  is  powerfully  expressed. 

The  scene  of  St.  Peter  and  the  Temple  Tribute  was  very 
rarely  painted.  It  is  curious  that  this  should  have  been 
the  subject  of  the  supreme  picture  by  the  unfortunate 
Masaccio  in  the  Brancacci  Chapel  at  Florence  —  a  picture 
so  full  of  skill  and  nobleness  that  it  formed  an  epoch  in 
the  history  of  Art.  It  is  truly  astonishing  as  the  work 
of  a  youth,  who,  in  1425,  —  the  approximate  date  of  this 
masterpiece,  —  was  only  twenty-two  years  old.2 

The  scene  of  Jesus  in  the  house  of  Martha  and  Mary 
is  usually  so  painted  as  to  exaggerate  the  eager  hospitality 
of  the  elder  sister.  There  is  a  well-known  picture  of  it 
by  Martin  de  Vos  of  the  Flemish  School. 

We  have  a  picture  of  the  Shew  Me  a  Penny,  of  the 
school  of  Titian,  in  our  gallery.  The  Pharisee  is  trying 
to  entrap  Christ.  Titian's  own  picture  of  the  scene  is  at 
Dresden,  and  is  one  of  his  best  works.  It  was  painted  in 
1508.  The  type  of  the  Christ  is  noble  and  dignified,  and 
"the  action  of  the  hands  supplies  the  place  of  words." 
Titian  seems  to  have  been  the  first  to  paint  this  scene, 
and  Mrs.  Jameson  ingeniously  supposes  that  "it  may 
have  derived  some  popularity  from  the  contest  between 
Charles  V.  and  the  Romish  Church." 

Peter  Receiving  the  Keys  of  the  Kingdom   of  Heaven 

1  Waagen. 

2  See  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  I.  499 ;  Layard,  The  Brancacci  Chapel, 
1818  ;  Forster,  Geschichte  d.  Ital.  Kunst,  III.  151 ;  Dohrne,  p.  25. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE   MINISTRY.       337 

seems  to  be  only  once  represented  on  an  ancient  sarcoph- 
agus.1 In  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  painted  by  Perugino 
in  the  Sistine  Chapel ;  by  Giovanni  Bellini  in  an  alle- 
gorical manner,  with  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity  standing 
behind  the  Apostles;  by  Rubens,  and  by  many  others. 

Raphael's  famous  cartoon  of  the  Charge  to  Peter 
involves  a  direct  allusion  to  the  keys.  "  The  cause  of 
Raphael's  popularity,"  it  has  been  said,  "was  that  pre- 
dominance of  exaggerated  dramatic  representation  which 
in  his  pictures  is  visible  above  all  moral  and  spiritual 
qualities."2  Ruskin  mentions  this  picture  as  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  instances  of  the  false  ideal  in  religious 
Art.  "  Try,"  he  says,  "  to  feel  the  scene  a  little  and  then 
take  up  that  infinite  monstrosity  and  hypocrisy,  Raphael's 
cartoon  of  the  Charge  to  Peter.  Note  first  the  bold 
fallacy  —  the  putting  all  the  Apostles  there,  —  a  mere  lie  to 
serve  the  Papal  heresy.  Note  the  handsomely  curled  hair 
and  neatly  tied  sandals  of  the  men  who  had  been  out  all 
night  in  the  sea-mists  and  on  the  slimy  decks.  Note 
their  conventional  dresses  for  going  a-fishing,  with  trains 
that  lie  a  yard  along  the  ground,  and  goodly  fringes,  —  all 
made  to  match  an  apostolic  fishing-costume.  Note  how- 
Peter,  especially  (whose  chief  glory  was  in  his  wet  coat 
girt  about  him,  and  naked  limbs),  is  enveloped  in  folds 
and  fringes,  so  as  to  kneel  and  hold  his  keys  with  grace 
.  .  .  and  the  whole  group  of  Apostles,  not  round  Christ, 
as  they  would  have  been  naturally,  but  straggling  away  in 
a  line,  that  they  may  all  be  shewn."3 

Among  the  numerous  paintings  of  the  Magdalene  wash- 
ing Christ's  feet  with  her  tears,  and  wiping  them  with 

1  Bottari,  tav.  XXI. 

2  Miss  M.   C.   Owen,   Art   Schools,  p.   487.     Mr.   Ruskin   calls  this 
remark  "intensely  and  accurately  true." 

3  Modern  Painters,  III.  55.     The  subject  is  somewhat  similarly  treated 
by  Perugino  in  his  usual  symmetrical  and  balanced  manner  in   the 
Sistine  Chapel,  1486.    Those  who  wish  to  see  a  very  different  estimate 
of  Raphael's  cartoon  should  read  Mr.  Watkiss  Lloyd's  Christianity  in 
the  cartoons  of  Raphael. 

z 


338  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

the  hairs  of  her  head,  we  may  notice  one  by  Romanino 
in  the  Palazzo  Martinengo  at  Brescia.1  It  is  very  simple 
in  its  details.  Three  persons  only  are  seated  at  a  small 
wooden  table  covered  by  a  white  cloth.  In  the  middle 
sits  the  old,  turbaned,  white-haired  Pharisee,  who  bends 
down  with  supercilious  amazement  to  look  at  the  crouch- 
ing Magdalene  whom  Christ  is  blessing.  Her  pearl 
necklace  and  golden  jewels  contrast  with  her  penitent 
humiliation.  On  the  other  side  sits  a  disciple  full  of 
admiration.  The  story,  as  is  usual  with  Romanino,  is  told 
with  admirable  directness.  In  his  happy  moments,  as 
Burckhardt  says,  he  could  do  exquisite  things. 

Moretto's  treatment  of  the  same  subject  closely  resembles 
the  method  of  Paolo  Veronese.  Here  the  house  of  Simon 
is  a  palatial  hall,  and  the  Pharisee  has  all  the  dignity  of  a 
Venetian  senator.  The  buffoon,  with  the  monkey  on  his 
shoulder,  the  two  females  who  talk  about  the  event,  and 
the  servants  who  look  over  Christ's  shoulder  with  astonish- 
ment, are  exactly  in  Veronese's  manner.  The  picture 
painted  in  1544  is  in  Santa  Maria  della  Pieta  at  Venice. 

Mary  Magdalene  at  the  door  of  Simon  the  Pharisee  is 
the  name  of  one  of  D.  G.  Rossetti's  most  famous  pictures. 
During  a  village  revelry  she  sees  the  face  of  Christ 
through  a  window,  tears  the  flowers  from  her  hair,  and 
rushes  in,  while  her  lover  follows  and  tries  to  draw  her 
back.  She  seems  to  be  exclaiming :  — 

"  O  loose  me  !     Seest  thou  not  my  Bridegroom's  face 
That  draws  me  to  Him  ?  for  His  feet  my  kiss, 
My  hair,  my  tears,  He  craves  to-day ;  and  oh  ! 
What  words  can  tell  what  other  day  and  place 
Shall  see  me  clasp  those  blood-stained  feet  of  His? 
He  needs  me,  calls  me,  loves  me  :  let  me  go !  " 

1  It  has  been  painted  by  Taddeo  Gaddi,  Raphael,  Rubens,  etc. 
Veronese's  grand  canvas  is  in  the  Brera.  Christ  sits  at  the  extreme  left 
of  the  picture,  —  a  figure  full  of  human  majesty.  The  Magdalene  kneels 
at  His  feet,  with  the  broken  alabaster  vase  beside  her.  In  the  picture  by 
Jean  Gossart  de  Maubeuge  at  Brussels,  the  Magdalene  has  crept  under 
the  table  to  kiss  Christ's  feet.  An  attendant  is  shocked,  and  the  sancti- 
monious Pharisaism  of  Simon  is  admirably  expressed. 


SEPARATE   INCIDENTS   OF   THE  MINISTRY.       339 

We  have  in  the  National  Gallery  a  famous  Flemish- 
Italian  picture  by  Pedro  Campana  of  the  Preaching  of 
Christ  in  the  Temple.  Martha  is  leading  her  sister  Mary 
—  here,  as  usual,  confused  with  the  Magdalene  —  to  listen 
to  the  Saviour.  Mary  kneels  humbly  among  the  listeners, 
while  Martha  encourages  her  by  pointing  to  Christ. 
Jesus,  dressed  in  a  long  red  mantle  and  brown  tunic,  is 
seated  under  a  canopy,  and  extends  His  right  arm  to  the 
congregation.  A  censer  smokes  on  the  marble  pavement. 

The  same  subject  was  treated  in  an  engraving  after 
Raphael,  by  Marc  Antonio.  It  is  based  on  the  confusion 
of  Mary  of  Bethany  with  Mary  of  Magdala.  The  story 
in  II  Perfetto  Legendario  said  that  Mary  led  an  evil  life, 
and  Martha  converted  her  by  leading  her  to  Christ. 
Christ  is  seated  on  a  throne  between  two  pillars,  with 
some  of  His  Apostles  around  Him.  His  left  arm  rests  on 
the  head  of  a  sculptured  lion;  His  right  is  graciously 
extended  towards  Mary,  who  is  being  eagerly  led  up  the 
steps  by  Martha.  Mary  timidly  clutches  her  sister  by  the 
hand,  and  needs  all  her  encouragement.1 

1  Reproduced  in  Mrs.  Jameson's  Poetry  of  Sacred  and  Legendary 
Art,  I.  381. 


BOOK  VIII. 

THE   LAST    SUPPER. 


I. 

WASHING   THE   DISCIPLES'   FEET. 

"  I  see  thee  bending 
Girt  as  a  servant  at  Thy  servant's  feet." 

—  G.  W.  BETHUNE. 

THE  infinitely  pathetic  incident  of  the  supreme  humility 
of  Jesus  in  washing  the  feet  of  His  disciples  naturally 
attracted  the  attention  of  many  painters.1  In  our  National 
Gallery  we  have,  I  think,  but  one  ancient  example,  a  some- 
what poor  and  faded  Tintoretto  (No.  1130).  As  usual,  he 
represents  the  scene  amid  very  humble  surroundings,  in 
contrast  with  Veronese's  idealistic  magnificence. 

The  gallery  has  recently  been  enriched  by  the  master- 
piece of  the  subject  by  the  late  Mr.  Ford  Madox  Brown. 
It  is  a  splendid  piece  of  colouring,  and  in  all  respects  a 
great  picture.  Jesus,  whose  face  is  worn  and  pathetic,  yet 
full  of  divine  beauty,  is  bending  over  the  feet  of  St.  Peter, 
whose  figure  is  quite  ideal  in  its  strength  and  dignity. 
A  bad,  mean  Judas  is  stooping  to  untie  the  strings  of  his 
sandals  preparatory  to  the  washing  of  his  feet,  and  the 
expression  on  his  face  is  an  indescribable  mixture  of 
shame,  surprise,  and  cunning.  The  faces  of  the  three 
other  Apostles  who  alone  come  into  the  canvas  are  striking 
and  varied.  The  only  real  defect  of  the  picture  is  the 
weak,  feminine  face  of  the  open-mouthed  St.  John,  who 
is  looking  at  the  scene  over  the  broad  shoulders  of  St. 
Peter.  The  nation  may  be  congratulated  on  the  recent 
acquisition  of  so  striking  a  sacred  picture  by  a  modern 
English  artist. 

1  See  woodcut  95. 
343 


II. 

THE   LAST   SUPPER.* 

"  When  the  Paschal  evening  fell 
Deep  on  Kedron's  hallowed  dell, 
When  around  the  festal  board 
Sat  the  Apostles  with  their  Lord."  —  A.  P.  STANLEY. 

"Zweierlei  gehort  zum  Kiinstler,  dass  er  sich  iiber  das  Wirkliche 
erhebt,  und  dass  er  innerhalb  des  Sinnlichen  stehen  bleibt.  Wo  beider 
verbunden  ist,  da  ist  asthetische  Kunst."  —  SCHILLER. 

The  Last  Supper  was  painted  by  Giotto,  Fra  Angelico, 
and  other  early  painters,  and  the  subject  continued  to  be  a 
favourite  one.  In  representing  it,  artists  usually  select 
for  illustration  either  the  moment  at  which  our  Lord 
instituted  the  Eucharist,  or  that  at  which  He  says,  "  One 
of  you  shall  betray  Me." 

Signorelli  chooses  the  first  in  a  picture  in  the  Cathedral 
at  Cortona.  He  boldly  removes  the  table,  as  had  been 
done  by  Justus  of  Ghent  in  his  Last  Supper  at  Urbino, 
and  he  represents  Christ  moving  freely  among  the  group 
of  His  disciples ;  they  are  all  kneeling  on  a  marble  floor, 
and  Christ,  with  a  patten  in  one  hand,  is  taking  round 
the  wafers,  which  He  puts  into  the  mouth  of  each, 
while  one  of  the  Apostles  holds  the  chalice.  All  of  the 
twelve  are  filled  with  love  and  awe,  except  Judas,  who 
kneels  nearest  to  the  spectator,  and  is  engaged  in  count- 
ing and  feeling  the  gold  coins  in  his  bag.  His  face  wears 
an  expression  of  disgust  and  bitterness ;  he  is  evidently 

1  For  one  of  the  earliest  representations  see  woodcut  94. 
344 


THE  LAST  SUPPER.  345 

thinking  of  his  awful  blood-money,  not  of  the  parting 
festival  of  love.1  The  picture  was  painted  in  1512. 

Leonardo's  now  ruined  fresco  in  the  Refectory  of  Sta 
Maria  delle  Grazie  at  Milan  was  the  most  consummate 
outcome  of  his  genius.  In  presence  of  such  a  master- 
piece, we  appreciate  the  remark  of  Vasari,  "Veramente 
mirabile  e  celeste  fu  Lionardo.  .  .  .  Nessuno  altro  mai 
gli  fu  pari." 

The  arrangement  follows  to  some  extent  the  ancient 
tradition.  Christ  is  seated  in  the  midst  of  His  Apostles 
at  the  farther  side  of  the  table ;  the  other  side  is  left 
unoccupied.  The  Apostles  are  divided  into  four  groups 
of  threes,  into  which  they  have  been  broken  up  by  the 
electric  shock  of  the  words,  "Amen  dico  vobis  quia  unus 
vestrum  me  traditurus  sit.  Christ  Himself  remains  ma- 
jestic in  His  isolation.  His  eyes  are  bent  downwards ; 
His  gesture  shows  how  awfully  He  has  felt  His  own 
words,  but  He  is  not  watching  the  effect  they  have  pro- 
duced. At  the  right  of  the  Saviour,  Peter  is  leaning 
across  the  traitor  Judas  to  whisper  in  the  ear  of  the  youth- 
ful and  beautiful  St.  John  that  he  should  ask  Christ 
whom  He  meant  to  indicate.  Peter  is  ardent  and  excited ; 
John  is  sunk  in  sorrow.  Judas  is  grasping  the  bag  in  his 
right  hand,  while  his  left,  half-lifted  from  the  table,  shows 
that  he,  too,  has  been  alarmed ;  his  face  is  powerful  and 
bad,  but  not  revolting.  His  arm  has  —  at  least  in 
Raphael  Mengs'  engraving  —  with  evil  omen  upset  the 
saltcellar.  St.  James,  at  Christ's  left,  is  shrinking  back 
with  a  gesture  of  wild  sorrow  and  astonishment,  while 
one  Apostle  has  started  up  and  is  laying  his  hand  on  his 
heart,  and  another  leans  across  St.  James  to  attract 
Christ's  attention  by  his  uplifted  finger  to  the  eager  ques- 
tion, 'Lord,  is  it  I?'  The  three  groups  at  either  end 
are  no  less  expressive  with  their  profound  agitation  and 
speaking  gestures.  Almost  every  head,  except  that  of 

1  The  picture  is  reproduced  in  the  Ecole  Florentine  of  Charles  Blanc 
and  Paul  Mantz. 


346  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

Judas,  which  is  flung  partly  into  shadow,  shews  the  highest 
nobleness  and  the  most  varied  power;  but  the  head  of 
Christ  is  supreme  in  beauty  and  divinity.  The  force  of 
Art  could  hardly  go  farther  than  it  does  here.  Every 
other  picture  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  dwarfed  into  insig- 
nificance by  the  side  of  this. 

"  In  this  great  picture  Leonardo  broke  with  all  past 
tradition,  cast  a  spark  of  fire  into  the  assembly,  and  boldly 
ventured  to  change  the  quiet  familiar  celebration  of 
Christ's  Last  Supper  into  a  scene  of  passionate  dramatic 
action.  And  yet  only  such  a  master  could  maintain  that 
noble  moderation  in  the  midst  of  this  ferment  of  feeling, 
in  which  sadness,  pain,  uncertainty,  anger,  indignation, 
and  even  horror,  are  combined ;  only  such  as  he  could, 
with  his  profound  knowledge  of  the  human  mind,  develop 
such  varied  expressions  as  the  result  of  each  various 
character,  and,  amid  the  struggle  of  contending  feelings, 
place  the  Divine  Master  in  the  midst  in  calm  resignation 
and  wonderful  majesty,  only  slightly  dimmed  by  the 
expression  of  sadness."  l 

The  picture  was  finished  in  1497.     Leonardo  sought  the 

1  Liibke,  History  of  Art,  II.  217.  According  to  Stendhal,  the  exact 
explanation  of  the  picture  is  as  follows :  Judas  half  turns  to  discover  of 
whom  St.  Peter  is  speaking  so  passionately,  and  is  preparing  himself  to 
deny  everything.  But  he  is  already  discovered.  St.  James  the  Less, 
passing  his  arm  over  the  shoulder  of  St.  Andrew,  touches  St.  Peter  to  tell 
him  that  the  traitor  is  at  his  side.  St.  Andrew  looks  at  Judas  with 
horror,  and  St.  Bartholomew  at  the  end  of  the  table  has  started  up  from 
his  seat  to  regard  him  more  intently.  At  the  left  of  Christ  St.  James 
protests  his  innocence  by  a  natural  gesture,  opening  his  arms  to  expose 
his  defenceless  breast.  St.  Thomas,  pressing  near  to  Christ,  seems  to  ask, 
"  One  of  us  ?  "  St.  Philip,  the  youngest  of  the  Apostles,  places  his  hands 
on  his  heart  and  rises  to  protest  his  fidelity.  St.  Matthew  repeats  the 
terrible  words  to  the  indignant  St.  Simon,  who  refuses  to  believe  them. 
St.  Thaddeus,  who  has  first  told  them  to  him,  points  to  St.  Matthew  to 
confirm  them.  The  dying  rays  of  evening  light  add  deeper  sombreness 
to  the  sad  face  of  the  Christ.  —  Stendhal.  Histoire  de  la  Peinture  Italirnne. 

There  are  monographs  on  this  picture  by  L'Abbc  Guillon,  La  Cenacle 
de  L.  da  Vinci,  Milan,  1811,  and  Paolo  Pino,  La  Storia  genuina  del 
Cenacolo,  Milan,  1796. 


03        03 


THE   LAST   SUPPER.  347 

types  of  the  Twelve  in  such  models  as  he  could  idealize 
into  the  greatest  force  ;  "  but  not  that  of  Christ,"  says 
Vasari,  "  for  whom  he  did  not  wish  to  seek  any  earthly 
representation."  When  he  consulted  his  friend  Bernado 
Zenale,  he  advised  him  to  leave  the  head  of  Christ  unfin- 
ished, since  he  could  never  surpass,  even  if  he  equalled, 
the  beauty  and  dignity  which  he  had  given  to  the  heads 
of  James  and  John.  His  pupil,  Lomazzo,  in  his  Trattato 
della  Pittura,  says  that  Leonardo  followed  this  advice,  and 
some  think  that  the  fact  is  proved  even  by  the  ruins  of 
the  picture.  But  perhaps  all  that  is  meant  is  that  he 
never  attained  to  the  ideal  of  perfection  which  he  had 
conceived.  "  Quelle  beaute  cependant,"  says  M.  Charles 
Blanc,  "quelle  grace  touchante,  quelle  sublime  douceur 
dans  cette  tete  du  Christ !  Le  rayon  qui  I'e'claire,  en 
effleurant  ses  traits  abattus  et  attriste"s,  semble  provenir 
d'une  lumiere  plus  douce,  plus  pure,  plus  celeste  que 
celle  qui  accuse  les  autres  visages.  Dans  ses  yeux 
baiss^s,  dans  sa  levre  e'mue,  dans  je  ne  sais  quel  sourire 
interieur  et  plein  d'amertume,  se  peint  la  supreme  douleur, 
une  douleur  que  les  supplices  du  Calvaire  n'dgaleront 
point  —  la  trahison  d'un  ami." 

We  are  glad  to  know  there  is  no  truth  in  the  story  that 
Leonardo  painted  the  prior  of  the  convent  as  Judas ;  for 
this  prior,  whose  name  was  Bandelli,  was,  according  to 
the  Dominican  Pino,  handsome  and  bald  —  "  facie  magna 
et  venusta,  capite  magno  et  procedente  aetate  calvo." 1 

Leonardo's  picture  cVwarfs  the  significance  of  all  others, 
but  we  may  mention  Titian's  Last  Supper  (A.D.  1564), 
now  in  the  Escurial.  In  the  usual  Venetian  way  he  dis- 

1  See  Blanc,  p.  19.  Michael  Angelo  is  said  to  have  painted  his  enemy 
Biagio  among  the  damned,  and  we  know  what  licence  in  this  respect  had 
been  used  by  Dante.  The  picture  illustrates  Leonardo's  own  views  as  to 
the  aim  of  the  artist  in  his  famous  sonnet  — 

"Chi  non  puo  quel  che  vuol,  quel  che  puo  voglia. 
Che  quel  che  non  si  puo  folle  fc  volere.     .    .     . 
Adunque  tu  Letter  di  questa  note 
Se  tu  vuoi  esser  buono  e  agrli  altro  caro 
Vogli  sempre  poter  quel  che  tu  debbe." 


THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

tracts  the  attention  by  such  accessories  as  that  of  a  dog- 
gnawing  a  bone,  and  a  partridge  drinking  out  of  a  bowl. 

There  are  three  Last  Suppers  by  Tintoretto  at  Venice. 
One  is  in  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco.  Only  eleven  of  the 
disciples  are  present.  Judas  has  gone  out,  and  the  painter, 
after  the  fashion  of  his  school,  introduces  into  the  scene 
two  beggars  and  a  dog.  Another  is  in  S.  Giorgio  Mag- 
giore.  Here  the  chamber  is  an  Italian  inn,  and  the  chief 
peculiarity  is  that  the  ascending  smoke  of  the  lamp  be- 
comes a  choir  of  angels.  In  the  San  Trovaso  picture, 
Judas,  as  though  to  shew  his  utter  indifference  to  the 
words  of  Christ,  is  helping  himself  to  wine  from  a  flask.1 

The  Last  Supper  was  a  frequent  subject  in  the  Spanish 
School.  Generally  —  as  by  Pablo  de  Cespedes  at  Cordova, 
and  Juan  de  Joanes  —  Christ  is  represented  as  holding- 
up  the  bread  in  the  form  of  a  wafer.  In  the  Cena  of 
Carducho  (b.  1522),  Judas  is  traditionally  represented 
with  furiously  red  hair,  to  which  the  Spaniards  have  a 
great  dislike.  F.  de  Ribalta  (b.  1550)  in  his  Cena, 
avenged  himself  on  one  Pradas,  a  troublesome  cobbler, 
who  was  his  neighbour,  by  painting  him  as  Judas.  We 
may  just  mention  the  Last  Supper  by  Benjamin  West, 
painted  in  1784  for  George  III.,  and  presented  to  the 
National  Gallery  in  1828  by  George  IV. 

1  See  these  pictures  described  in  the  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  302-361. 


BOOK  IX. 

THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST. 


Gli  amorosi  pensier  gia  vani  e  lieti 

Che  fien,  or  s'  a  due  morti  mi  avvicino? 

D'  una  so  certo,  e  1'  altra  mi  minaccia. 
Xe  pinger,  lie  scolpir  fia  piii  che  queti 

L'  anima  volta  a  quello  Amor  divino 

Ch'  aperse,  a  prender  noi,  in  Croce  le  braccia." 

—  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 


I. 


THE   LAST   SCENES   AND   THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST  AS 
TREATED   IN  EARLY   CHRISTIAN   ART. 

"During  the  Middle  Ages,  Man  and  Nature  had  grown  apart;  the 
Church  regarded  Nature  as  sinful  and  reprobate,  and  made  it  an  object 
of  religious  horror.  Authority  prohibited  investigation,  tradition  took 
the  place  of  intelligence.  During  the  early  stages  moral  bondage  closed 
the  mind  against  the  apprehension  of  phenomena,  which  were  still 
timid  and  invisible  to  the  eye,  and  when  freedom  began  to  assert  its 
rights,  the  study  of  nature  was  ineffectual ;  but  now  the  shroud  was 
rent,  arid  man  stood  face  to  face  with  men."  — WOLTMANN,  History  of 
Painting,  II.  4. 

THE  Last  Scenes  of  the  Life  of  Christ  may  be  regarded 
as  beginning  with  His  triumphal  entry  into  Jerusalem.  I 
purpose  to  throw  together  into  this  section  some  of  the 
earliest  known  representations  of  these  events. 


352 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


The  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  as  it  spoke  of  gladness  and 
triumph,  not  of  pain  and  horror,  was  naturally  and  charac- 
teristically a  favourite  subject  with  Christian  artists  as  far 
back  as  the  fourth  century.  Fleury  gives  us  six  speci- 
mens of  it.  The  first  of  these  will  suffice  to  shew  the 
traditional  treatment.  It  is  from  the  tomb  of  Junius 
Bassus.  Christ,  as  in  all  these  representations,  is  young 
and  beardless.1  He  is  seated  on  the  ass,  while  one  youth 
spreads  his  garment  before  Him  and  another  is  tearing 
down  the  branch  of  an  olive  tree.  The  subordinate 
figures  are  intentionally  made  smaller  than  that  of  the 
Christ,  to  express  His  divine  dignity.  In  later  represen- 
tations the  foal  runs  beside  the  ass,  and  there  are  many 
more  figures,  as  in  the  very  spirited  sculpture  on  the 
Lateran  sarcophagus. 

The  widow's  gift  of  her  mite  is  first  represented  in  one 
of  the  Ravenna  Mosaics  in  San  Apollinare.     The  wither- 
ing of  the  fig  tree  first  occurs 
in    a    ninth-century     manu- 
script. 

The  Last  Supper  is  first 
painted  in  the  Syriac  Bible 
at  Florence  (sixth  century), 
and  is  merely  indicated  in  a 
symbolic  way.2 

The  Washing  of  the  Dis- 
ciples' Feet  is  beautifully 
represented  on  the  Aries 
sarcophagus  of  the  fourth 
century,  but  does  not  occur 
often,  or  with  many  variations.3 

The  Traitor  Kiss  of  Judas,  so  often  painted  in  the  Art 
of  the  later  centuries,  was  a  theme  too  painful  for  the 
artists  of  the  Catacombs.  It  does  not  occur  in  the  early 
centuries. 


1  Fleury,  PI.  LXX.  f.  I.  1. 

8  Fleury,  LXXV.  3. 


2  Fleury,  LXXIII.  1. 
See  p.  351. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


353 


The  Denial  of  St.  Peter  is  represented  not  unfrequent- 

ly  on  ancient   sarcophagi. 

The  cock  is  generally  in- 
troduced. The  earliest  in- 
stance seems  to  be  that  on  a 

sarcophagus  in  the  Late  ran, 

known  as  the  Sarcophagus 

of  the  Resurrection.     It  is 

interesting  to  observe  that 

Christ    usually    has     His 

three  fingers  folded  down, 

as    though    to    imply    the 

three    denials,    while     St. 

Peter    usually    points    to 

his    own    lips    in    grieved 

acknowledgment     of     his 

offence.1 

"  We    have    had    many 

occasions  to  observe,"  says 

Fleury,    "that    the    early 

Christians,  when,  on  their  monuments,  they  wish  to  recall 

the  scenes  of  the  Passion,  choose 
those  of  which  the  representation 
would  cause  the  least  sense  of 
horror.  For  this  reason  we  con- 
stantly see  on  the  sarcophagi, 
Pilate  washing  his  hands.  Num- 
berless examples  are  reproduced 
by  Bosio,  Aringhi,  D'Agincourt, 
and  others." 

The  Carrying  of  the  Cross  and 
the  Crowning  with  Thorns  are 
also  represented  on  Lateran  sar- 
cophagus, and  this  is  perhaps  the 
first  appearance  of  the  Latin 
cross.  We  append  these  most 


Fleury,  LXXXI.  1. 


AA 


354 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


interesting  figures.  Fleury  remarks  that  it  is  Simon  the 
Cyrenian,  not  Christ,  who  is  carrying  the  cross,  and  that 
the  soldier  who  seems  to  be  pushing  him  along  has  a  sterner 
expression  than  the  soldier  who  is  placing  the  crown  of 
thorns  on  the  brow  of  Christ  Himself.  This  is  due  to  the 


innate  reverence  of  the  artist.  We  are  far  indeed  from 
the  brutalities  of  representation  which  we  find  in  Rubens, 
and  even  in  Albrecht  Diirer.  The  most  terrible  scenes 
are  still  expressed  with  great  reserve.1 

As  we  have  already  stated,  the  monogram  of  Christ 
appears  in  the  fourth  century ;  the  cross  in  the  fifth ;  the 
crucifix  not  until  long  afterwards.  The  earliest  known 
representation  of  the  Crucifixion  is  in  the  Syriac  Bible  of 
the  monk  Rabbula  in  the  sixth  century  (A.D.  586).  The 
manuscripts,  which  were  intended  for  the  devout  and 
learned  few,  shewed  a  hardihood  which  was  not  deemed 
permissible  till  centuries  later,  in  monuments  exposed  to 
the  gaze  of  the  multitude. 

This  ancient  picture,  in  which  the  reserve  of  the  earlier 

i  Fleury,  LXXXV.  1. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


355 


Christians  was  perhaps  first  broken,  will  be  looked  at 
with  unusual  interest^  It  will  be  observed  that  the  two 
robbers  are  only  girded  with  a  short  cincture  round  the 
loins.  As  the  Roman  custom  was  followed,  they  were 
in  reality  crucified  naked,  but  the  Jewish  custom  was  less 


revolting.  In  the  first  representations  of  Christ  upon  the 
cross,  He  is  always  clothed  in  a  long  colobium,  which  was  a 
sleeveless  tunic,  like  the  Greek  exomis.  It  was  originally 
a  senatorial  tunic,  afterwards  adopted  by  priests  and  monks. 
The  artists  of  later  days  did  not  shrink  from  representing 
Him  only  in  a  short  tunic,  and  ultimately  with  nothing 
but  a  cincture.1 

In  this  illumination  Christ  wears  a  nimbus.  The  globes 
on  either  side  —  one  red,  one  blue  —  represent  the  sun  and 
moon.  The  feet  of  Christ  do  not  rest  on  a  suppedaneum, 
but  are  nailed  to  the  cross.  Longinus  is  the  traditional 
name  of  the  soldier  who  pierced  Christ's  side.  The  gen- 
eral type  of  representation  varies  very  little  in  detail  for 
many  centuries,  but  Christ  was  often  represented  standing, 

i  Fleury,  LXXVII.  1. 


356 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


as  it  were,  free  and  majestic,  in  front  of  the  cross  upon  the 

suppedanenm. 

The  earliest  attempt  at  an  idealized  representation  of 

the   Deposition   from   the  Cross   is   in  the  ninth-century 

manuscript  of  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  of  Xazianzus. 
The  first  Resurrection  in  Christian  Art  is  carved  on  a 

fourth-century  sarcophagus,  and  is  deeply  interesting 
because  it  is  purely  symbolic,1  except 
so  far  as  the  two  soldiers  are  con- 
cerned. Between  them  is  a  cross  sur- 
mounted by  the  monogram  of  Christ, 
within  a  laurel  garland,  the  symbol  of 
victory.  At  the  top  of  the  cross  are 
the  head  and  wings  of  a  phoenix. 
Two  birds,  standing  on  the  arms  of 
the  cross,  pick  the  laurel  berries  of 
this  garland.  The  Resurrection  is, 
of  course,  directly  represented  many 
times  in  the  monuments,  manuscripts, 
and  mosaics  of  later  centuries ;  but 

the  actual  Risen  Christ  does  not  occur  in  these  scenes 

before  the  sixth  century  in  the  Syriac  Bible. 


In  an  eighth-century  ivory  at  Munich,  we  have  an 
interesting  early  picture  of  the  open  tomb,  the  seated 
angel,  and  the  three  Marys.2 


1  Fleury,  XCII.  2. 


2  Fleury,  XCIV.  1. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


357 


An  early  representation  of  the  Disciples  at  Emrnaus,  of 
a  very  simple  character,  is  found  on  a  ninth-century 
miniature  in  the  library  at  Mu- 
nich,1 where  there  is  also  a  pic- 
ture of  Our  Saviour  alone  with 
St.  Thomas,  who  is  weeping.2 
The  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas 
is  not  found,  says  Fleury,  in  the 
Catacombs,  or  on  the  sarcophagi. 
The  early  Christians  did  not 
deem  it  wise  to  shew  to  the 
heathen  the  picture  of  a  doubt- 
ing Apostle.  Only  in  later 
ages,  when  the  faithful  became 
more  numerous,  they  might 
sometimes  derive  consolation 
and  encouragement  from  a 

scene  which  set  forth  the  gentleness  of  their  Master,  who 
pardoned  the  weakness  of  His  Apostle,  and  gave  him  a 

proof  of  His  Divinity. 

The  festival  of  the  Ascension 
was  kept  long  before  the  age  of 
St.  Augustine,  and  he  refers  it 
back  to  apostolic  days.3  The 
scene,  however,  is  wisely  and 
reverently  left  un  pictured  in 
the  first  five  centuries.  They 
deemed  it  sufficient  to  indicate 
it  symbolically  by  the  chariot 
of  Elijah  mounting  heavenwards. 
The  earliest  known  picture  of  the 
Ascension  is  (as  we  have  so  often 
had  to  observe)  in  the  Syriac  Bible  at  Florence.  It  is 
highly  symbolical.  Above  is  Christ  wearing  a  nimbus  and 
surrounded  by  an  oval  aureole.4  In  His  left  hand  is  a 

1  Fleury,  XCV.  1.          -  Id.  XCVI.  1.          *  Ep.  CX.  ad  Januarium. 
*  In  later  pictures  this  becomes  a  Vesica  piscis. 


358 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


book ;  His  right  is  uplifted.  Two  angels  hold  this  aureole 
as  though  it  were  a  picture.  Beneath  is  a  chariot  of  fire, 
its  wheels  supported  by  the  fourf old-visage d  cherubic 
emblem,  of  which  the  wings  are  full  of  eyes.  In  each 


ASCENSION       Vli  S.  Bible  Syriaqt, 


corner  the  sun  and  the  moon  look  down  with  human 
faces.  On  either  side  two  nimbus-wearing  and  adoring 
angels  are  offering  to  Christ  crowns  of  gold,  with  an  eye 
in  the  centre  of  them,  which  lie  on  the  violet  napkin  in 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  359 

their  hands.  From  underneath  the  fourfold  cherub  comes 
a  hand  which  is  directed  towards  the  Virgin.  She  stands 
under  the  hill  in  the  attitude  of  an  or  ante.  On  her  right 
are  six  Apostles,  by  whose  side  stands  an  angel  pointing 
upwards ;  on  the  other  side  another  angel  speaks  solemnly 
to  six  other  Apostles  who  gaze  into  the  sky.  One  of 
them  is  carrying  a  cross.1 

1  Fleury,  XCVIII. 


II. 

THE   SUFFERING    CHRIST, 

AS    TREATED    BY    ALBRECHT    DtJRER. 

"  Are  those  His  limbs  with  ruthless  scourges  torn  ? 
His  brows  all  bleeding  with  the  twisted  thorh  ?  " 

—  HE  HER. 

I  HAVE  not  in  this  book  taken  very  numerous  illustra- 
tions from  the  German  schools  of  painting,  but  as  Albrecht 
Diirer  —  perhaps  the  greatest  representative  of  the  Ger- 
man School  of  painting  —  made  the  Passion  one  of  his 
chief  subjects,  it  will  be  best  to  speak  separately  of 
his  mode  of  treating  it. 

He  designed  (among  others)  two  immortal  series  of 
wood-engravings,  one  known  as  The  Greater  Passion, 
published  in  1511,  consisting  of  twelve  folio  woodcuts; 
the  other,  in  1516,  called  The  Little  Passion,  consists 
of  thirty-seven  smaller  sketches.  In  one  of  his  letters  to 
his  friend  Pirkheimer,  describing  his  visit  to  Venice,  he 
frankly  says  that  the  Venetian  painters  abused  his  style 
because  it  was  not  ancient  (i.e.  classic),  and  therefore  not 
good.1  But  they  admired  his  colouring,  and  they  could 
not  surely  have  been  wholly  unable  to  recognize  the  force 
and  imaginative  genius  of  this  artium  lumen  sol  artificum, 
as  he  is  called  in  the  inscription  on  his  tomb. 

Our  illustrations  are  borrowed  from  The  Greater  Passion, 
but  I  have  described  the  scenes  of  The  Little  Passion.2 

1  Xoch  schelten  sy  es,  und  sagen  es  sey  nit  antigish  art,  dozu  sey  es 
nit  gut. 

2  The  Kleine  Passion  was  reproduced  in  fac-sunile  in  1884,  by  George 
Hirth.     (Liebhabfr-Bibliothek,  Vol.  VIII.,  Munich.) 

360 


THE    SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


361 


The  whole  divine  tragedy  is  at  once  symbolized  and 
summed  up  in  the  marvellous  vignette  of  the  title-page. 
Alone,  and  naked,  but  for  a  cloth  flung  over  His  knees 
and  round  His  waist,  Christ  is  seated  on  a  rough  block 
of  stone,  —  perhaps  intended  to  recall  the  rejected  corner- 
stone. He  leans  His  head  upon  His  hand ;  His  elbow  is 
supported  on  His  knee.  His  face,  of  unutterable  anguish, 


The  Man  of  sorrows.     ^Diirer.  * 

is  half  concealed  by  His  hand.  The  terrible  crown  of 
twisted  thorns  is  round  His  brows,  and  underneath  it  flow 
the  long  dark  curls,  dishevelled  and  evidently  stiff  with 
blood.  His  feet  shew  the  marks  of  the  nails  by  which 
they  have  been  pierced.  He  is  lost  in  thought  the  most 


362  THE   LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IX  ART. 

profound,  the  most  bitter.  It  is  the  hour  when  His  hu- 
manity lies  heaviest  upon  Him.  .  .  .  He  has  drained 
the  cup  of  bitterness  to  the  uttermost,  and  His  burden 
is  almost  too  much  for  the  Living  Man,  though  the  God 
knows  that  "  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul  and 
be  satisfied."  1  The  lines  beneath  are :  — 

"  O  mihi  tantoruni,  justo  mihi,  causa  dolorum, 

O  crucis,  O  mortis  causa  cruenta  mihi, 
O  homo,  sat  fuerit  tibi  Me  semel  ista  tulisse, 
O  cessa  culpis  Me  cruciare  tuis." 

This  series  is  as  follows  :  — 

1.  The  Fall  of  Man.     Eve  takes  the  apple  from  the 
mouth  of  the  crested  serpent,  and  gives  it  to  Adam,  who 
has  one  arm  round  her  waist,  and  lifts  his  right  hand  in 
the  acquiescence  of  despair. 

2.  Adam  and  Eve  are  driven  from    Paradise  by  the 
Angel  with  a  drawn  sword. 

3.  The  Annunciation. 

4.  The  Nativity. 

5.  Christ   bids  Farewell  to  His  Mother,  who,  with  a 
gesture   of   the   deepest   pathos,  looks   up   to   Him  with 
clasped  hands.     The  subject,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  peculiar 
to  Diirer,  and  his  treatment  of  it  is  as  simple  as  it  is 
powerful. 

6.  The  Triumphal  Entry  into  Jerusalem. 

7.  The   Cleansing  of   the    Temple.     The  whole  treat- 
ment of  this  subject  is  (as  usual)  too  violent  and  uproar- 
ious.     Two    tables   of    the    money-changers   have    been 
upset,  and  over  one  of  the  traders  Christ  is  wielding  a 
scourge,  which  is  by  no  means  made  of  small  cords,  and 
scourging  the  man,  although  he  has  fallen  on  the  Temple 
floor  among  his  scattered  coins  and  money-bags,  and  has 
hurt  his  head  in  the  fall.     On  one  side  are  two  Pharisees, 
who  look  on  with  fury ;  on  the  other  a  group  of  vendors 
is  flying  in  alarm.     One  of  them,  with  a  goatish  face,  has 

1  T.  Heaton,  p.  128. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


363 


snatched  up  under  his  arm  a  frightened  lamb  and  is  hurry- 
ing off  with  it. 


The  Last  Supper. 


8.  The  Last  Supper.  Christ  and  the  Apostles  are 
seated  at  a  round  table ;  Judas  is  the  farthest  off  and 
grasps  the  bag ;  John  lies  on  the  bosom  of  his  Lord.  The 


364 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


dish  contains  what   is   probably  meant   for   the    Paschal 
Lamb. 


The  Agony  in  the  Garden.      (Diirer.) 


9.  Christ  Washing  the  Disciples'  Feet.  The  heads  are 
full  of  varied  power  and  expressiveness,  and  the  figure 
of  Christ  who  kneels  to  wash  the  feet  of  Peter  is  full  of 
dignity. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


365 


10.    The    Agony   in    the    Garden.      Christ    kneels    in 
prayer  with  clasped  uplifted  hands.     In  a  burst  of  light 


The  Arrest.     (Diirer.) 


from  the  clouds  an  angel  holds  up  the  cross  before  Him. 
St.  Peter  sleeps  in  the  foreground,  beside  him  is  St.  John 


366  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

•with,  his  face  buried  on  his  knees.  St.  James  is  looking 
up.  In  the  distance  the  band  issues  from  the  gate  of  Jeru- 
salem to  arrest  the  Saviour.  An  alternative  treatment  of 
this  subject  is  even  more  striking  and  pathetic.  In  this  St. 
James  is  sleeping,  as  well  as  his  brother  Apostles.  Christ 
is  not  upon  His  knees  with  hands  clasped  in  prayer,  but  i.s 
entirely  prostrated,  with  arms  outspread,  and  His  face 
on  the  damp  earth,  while  the  angel,  half  hidden  by  clouds, 
leans  over  Him. 

11.  The  Arrest.     Judas  kisses   Christ.     He  still  holds 
the  bag.     A  Roman  soldier  in  scaled  armour  seizes  Christ, 
while  another  binds  Him  from  behind.     Peter  has  violently 
smitten  Malchus  to  the  ground,  and  lifts  a  sword  over  his 
body,  upsetting  his  heavy  lanthorn. 

12.  Christ  before  Annas.     One  of   the  false  witnesses 
lays  his  hand  on  the  priest's  shoulder,  and  with  the  other 
points  to  Christ,  who   is  being  violently  maltreated   by 
brutal  soldiers. 

13.  Christ  before  Caiaphas.     The  high  priest  is  on  his 
throne,  and  rends  his  clothes,  looking  at  Christ  with  rage 
and  abhorrence.     A  soldier  furiously  smites  Christ  on  the 
face.     He  maintains  His  perfect  majesty. 

14.  The  Derision.     Christ  has  been  blindfolded.     One 
soldier  strikes  Him  with  open  palms.     A  young  man  blows 
a  ram's  horn  in  his  ear. 

15.  Christ  before  Pilate.     The  Pharisees  accuse  Him. 

16.  Christ  before  Herod.     The  king  seems  to  be  indig- 
nantly asking  Him  to  do  some  miracle.     Savage  priests 
are  exclaiming  against  Him.     There  is  a  wonderful  con- 
trast   between    His    unmoved    grandeur,   and   the    false 
majesty  of  the  mean-faced  king  in  his  crown. 

17.  The   Flagellation.     Christ   has  been   stripped  and 
His  arms  are  bound  to  a  pillar.     Two  executioners  with 
faces   of    hard   and   fiendish    cruelty    are    wielding   their 
rods.     One  of  them  has  rods  in  both  hands.     A  Pharisee, 
in  an  enormous  turban,  is  looking  on  with  complacence. 
The   face   and  attitude   of  Christ   expresses   unimpaired 
dignity  in  the  midst  of  helpless  anguish. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


367 


Pilate  shewing  Christ  to  the  People.     ^Diirer.) 

18.  Christ  crowned  with  Thorns.  The  faces  of  the  tor- 
turers are  here  more  ugly  and  brutal  than  ever.  One  drives 
the  thorns  deeper  into  His  head  with  a  small  pitchfork.1 

1  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  all  this  is  too  violent.  The  object  of  the 
crown  of  thorns  was  not  to  torture,  but  to  deride. 


368  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Another  smites  Him  with  a  stick.  A  third,  bald  and 
wrinkled,  puts  the  reed  in  His  hand  as  a  sceptre,  and 
kneels  before  Him  with  his  tongue  out.  Two  stately 
Pharisees  look  on  with  contemptuous  satisfaction. 

19.  Ecce  Homo ! 

20.  Pilate  washes  his  hands.     Christ  is  led  off  to  exe- 
cution. 

21.  Christ  sinks  beneath  the  Cross.     From  this  wood- 
cut Raphael  borrowed  the  attitude  in  his  far  more  elabor- 
ate, but  less  impressive  Spasimo  di  Sicilia.     St.  Veronica 
is  kneeling  beside  Christ  with  her  handkerchief. 

22.  St.  Veronica  with  the  Holy  Face,  between  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul. 

23.  The  Nailing  of  Christ   to  the   Cross.     The   treat- 
ment of  this  infinitely  painful  subject  is  rare ;  and  it  is 
well   that   it  should  be  so.1     With  a  heavy  mallet  one 
executioner  is  just  about  to  drive  a  huge  nail  through  the 
palm  of  Christ,  who  lies  outstretched  on  the  cross.     A 
group  of  women  in  wild  anguish  looks  on  from  a  little 
distance.     Nothing  could  render  such  a  theme  for  Art 
even  endurable,  unless  the  painter  can  give  the  impression 
that  at  this  moment  there  flowed  from  the  Saviour's  lips 
the  divine  prayer,   "Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do." 

24.  The  Crucifixion.     If  it  be  lawful  to  paint  this  sub- 
ject at  all,  it  could  hardly  be  done  better  than  Diirer  has 
done  it.     Mr.  W.   B.   Scott  calls  the    engraving   in   the 
Greater  Passion  "  a  work  above  criticism ;  noble  beyond 
most  of  the  creations  of  human  genius.     The  sad  mother 
sunk  upon  the  ground  and  the  group  supporting  her  are 
truly  touching.     The  sun  and  moon  (they  are  represented 
with  human  faces)  sympathize,  and  three  angels  save  the 
blood  from  the  blessed  wounds  in  cups." 

25.  Yet  the   treatment  in  the   Little   Passion   is  even 

1  It  is  at  least  doubtful  whether  it  is  historically  correct.  It  seems  to 
be  archseologically  more  probable  that  the  Saviour  stepped  on  to  the 
suppedaneum,  and  that  then  His  hands  were  nailed  to  the  transoms. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


369 


more  impressive,  because  more  quiet  and  simple.     "  The 
darkness    of   the   night   heightens    the   solemnity  of    the 


The  Crucifixion.     (Purer.) 


awful   scene.     Everything   around  is    calm   and   at   rest. 
No  weeping  angels  fly  about  the  cross ;  neither  sun  nor 


370  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

moon  is  to  be  seen,  only  the  black-hued  sky  above 
throwing  out  into  full  relief  the  figure  of  the  cross. 
Even  the  women  are  still  and  composed  in  their  sorrow. 
The  Magdalene,  it  is  true,  cannot  refrain  from  kissing  the 
feet  of  Him  who  loved  her,1  but  the  rest  stand  by  with 
restrained  emotion.  St.  John  only,  of  the  group  round 
the  cross,  testifies  his  grief  in  any  violent  manner;  he 
throws  up  his  arms  as  if  in  the  agony  of  despair.  Above 
him,  above  the  quiet  women,  above  the  Roman  guard, 
stands  forth  the  everlasting  image  of  the  crucified  Christ, 
the  crown  of  thorns  on  His  head  and  the  blood  shed  for 
mankind  flowing  from  His  wounded  side."2  At  the  foot 
of  the  cross  lies  a  skull,  traditionally  the  skull  of  Adam. 
Even  the  group  of  Roman  soldiers  seems  to  have  been 
stricken  into  awe  and  silence. 

26.  The  Deposition  from  the  Cross.     On  one  arm  of 
the  cross  hangs  the  crown  of  thorns  ;  Joseph  of  Arimathea, 
or  Nicodemus,   stands   on   one   side   with  a  linen  cloth. 
On  the  other  are  the  weeping  women.     A  disciple  has 
ascended  the  ladder  to  uphold  the  body,  and  the  helpless- 
ness of  death  was  never  more  pathetically  or  powerfully 
represented  than  it  is  in  this  picture.     The  face  of  Christ 
is  hidden,  the  head  rests  on  the  shoulder  of  the  disciple, 
and  the  body  in  his  arms ;  the  long  locks  stream  over  his 
shoulder. 

27.  The  Dead  Body  bewept  by  the  Holy  Women.     The 
dead  Christ  is  upheld  by  Joseph  of  Arimathea.     Behind 
him  stands  Nicodemus  with  his  vase  of  spices.     The  Mag- 
dalene is  kissing  the  Saviour's  wounded  feet;  St.  John 
supports  the  mourning  Virgin.     Farther  back  another  of 
the  holy  women  uplifts  her  arms  in  wilder  grief. 

28.  Christ  is  laid  in  the  tomb  by  Joseph  and  Nicode- 
mus. 

29.  The  Resurrection.     The  four  soldiers  are  sleeping 

1  Her  long,  unbound  tresses  sweep  the  ground. 

2  Heaton,  134.    The  arms  of  Christ  are  thin  and  emaciated,  and  His 
head  leans  on  His  shoulder  in  death. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  371 

by  the  open  door  of  the  rocky  tomb  from  which  Christ 
is  issuing  forth,  —  a  figure  of  singular  majesty  and  beauty. 
He  upholds  His  right  hand  in  benediction ;  in  His  left  is 
a  symbolic  cross  with  its  victorious  banner.  In  the  east 
the  dawn  has  begun,  and  we  see  the  women  on  their  way 
to  the  sepulchre. 

30.  The  Risen  Christ  appears  to  the  Virgin. 

31.  The  Noli  me  tangere. 

32.  The  Supper  at  Emmaus. 

33.  The   Incredulity  of    St.   Thomas.      In   these   four 
woodcuts  the  figure  of  Christ  is  extremely  powerful  and 
noble. 

34.  The  Ascension.     Only  the  feet  and  lower  part  of 
the  robe  of  the  Ascending  Christ  are  visible  in  the  clouds. 

35.  The  Descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  at  Pentecost. 

36.  The  Last  Judgment.     This  picture  in  its  symbolic 
character  is  a  singular  contrast  to  those  of  Michael  Angelo 
and  Rubens.     Christ  is  seated  on  the  clouds  of  heaven. 
His  feet  are  on  a  globe.     His  head  is  encircled  by  a  tri- 
partite blaze  of  glory  (as  is  usual  in  Diirer's  pictures), 
and  on  either  side  of  it,  as  though  they  have  issued  from 
His  mouth,  are  a  lily  and  a  drawn  sword.     Two  angels, 
with   large   wings    outspread,   are  blowing   their  mighty 
trumpets   on   either   side,   and   beneath   them   kneel   the 
figures  of  the  Virgin  and  of  St.  Peter  in  solemn  prayer. 
The  right  hand  of  Christ  gives  the  benediction,  the  left 
overshadows  the  head,  not  of  the  Virgin,  but  of  St.  Peter. 
Far  below,  on  earth,  are  a  multitude  of  tiny  figures.     In 
the  centre  they  rise  from  their  graves.     On  the  right  they 
are  being  led  by  angels  into  a  blaze  of  radiance ;  on  the 
left  devils  drive  the  lost  into  the  gaping  monster-mouth 
which  symbolizes  the  entrance  into  hell. 

Such  is  Diirer's  conception  of  all  these  events.  The 
treatment  is  almost  always  striking,  original,  and  expres- 
sive of  intense  feeling.  He  treats  the  scenes  of  which  the 
representation  is  perhaps  least  desirable,  with  a  reverence 
and  sincerity  which  impress  us  more  and  more  the  longer 


372  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

we  dwell  upon  his  work.  The  reader  will  be  glad  to  see 
the  estimate  formed  of  the  great  painter  by  the  accom- 
plished president  of  the  Royal  Academy. 

"  Albert  Diirer  may  be  regarded  as  par  excellence  the 
typical  German  artist,  —  far  more  so  than  his  great  con- 
tempory  Holbein.  He  was  a  man  of  a  strong  and  upright 
nature,  bent  on  pure  and  high  ideals,  a  man  ever  seeking, 
if  I  may  use  his  own  characteristic  expression,  to  make 
known  through  his  work  the  mysterious  treasure  that 
was  laid  up  in  his  heart;  he  was  a  thinker,  a  theorist,  and. 
as  you  know,  a  writer ;  like  many  of  the  great  artists  of 
the  Renaissance,  he  was  steeped  also  in  the  love  of  science. 
His  work  was  in  his  own  image,  it  was,  like  nearly  all 
German  Art,  primarily  ethic  in  its  complexion ;  like  all 
German  Art,  it  bore  traces  of  foreign  influence,  —  drawn, 
in  his  case,  first  from  Flanders,  and  later  from  Italy.  In 
his  work,  as  in  all  German  Art,  the  national  character 
asserted  itself  above  every  trammel  of  external  influence. 
Superbly  inexhaustible  as  a  designer,  as  a  draughtsman 
he  was  powerful,  thorough,  and  minute,  to  a  marvel,  but 
never  without  a  certain  almost  caligraphic  mannerism  of 
hand,  wanting  in  spontaneous  simplicity,  never  broadly 
serene.  In  his  colour,  he  was  rich  and  vivid,  not  always 
unerring  as  to  his  harmonies,  not  alluring  in  his  execution, 
—  withal  a  giant." 1 

These  scenes  have  been  often  painted  since  the  Renais- 
sance. 

There  is  a  series  of  the  Seven  Sorrows  of  the  Virgin  by 
Hans  Memlinc  at  Turin,  which  give  a  history  of  the 
Passion  from  the  Triumphal  Entry  into  Jerusalem  to  the 
appearance  of  the  Risen  Christ ;  and  of  the  Seven  Joys 
of  the  Virgin  in  the  Pinacothek  at  Munich,  which  begin 
with  the  Annunciation  and  end  with  the  Coronation  of 
the  Virgin.  They  are  brilliant  in  colouring  and  full  of 
poetry  and  incident.2 

1  Address  to  Students,  Dec.  9,  1893. 

2  See  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  36,  E.  T. 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  873 

Christ  lamenting  over  Jerusalem  is  the  subject  of  the 
well-known  picture  by  Sir  C.  Eastlake,  in  the  National 
Gallery  (No.  397).  It  is  serious  and  thoughtful.  Jesus 
is  seated  on  a  stone  under  some  olives,  with  Peter,  John, 
and  Andrew  behind  Him.  His  hands  are  clasped,  and  He 
gazes  on  the  city  outspread  below  Him.  In  the  middle 
ground  a  shepherd  is  carrying  a  lamb,  and  on  the  other 
side  a  woman  with  a  waterpot  on  her  head  leads  a  child. 
Near  her  is  a  hen  gathering  her  chickens  under  her  wings. 
A  woodman  has  left  his  axe,  which  has  been  struck  into 
the  root  of  an  aged  tree. 

The  Cleansing  of  the  Temple  is  scarcely  ever  painted 
in  a  satisfactory  manner.  Luther  had  the  temerity  to 
speak  of  it  in  language  which  can  only  be  regarded  as 
irreverent,  and  he  ventures  to  apply  to  the  conduct  of 
Christ  the  question,  "  Was  it  not  uproarious  (aufruhr- 
iscli)  "  ?  Perhaps  he  had  been  encouraged  in  his  mistaken 
view  of  it  by  the  tumultuous  manner  in  which  painters 
had  represented  it.  The  German  painters  were  specially 
in  the  wrong,  but  even  the  Italian  painters  arm  Christ 
with  a  formidable  scourge,  and  represent  Him  as  smiting 
the  cowering  and  malignant  money-changers  as  they 
grovel  on  the  Temple  floor.  One  instance  of  the  kind 
may  be  seen  in  Marcello  -Venusti's  picture  in  our  National 
Gallery  (No.  1194).  The  group  of  figures  in  this  picture, 
which  has  all  the  Venetian  skill  in  colouring,  is  said  to 
have  been  designed  by  Michael  Angelo,  and  in  any  case 
shews  his  influence.1  One  of  the  traders  has  on  his  head 
a  basketful  of  cocks  and  hens,  —  a  violation  of  all  rab- 
binic rules  which  would  have  horrified  the  priests  and 
Pharisees  themselves.  We  have  another  treatment  of  the 
subject  by  Bassano  (Jacopo  da  Ponte,  No.  228),  treated 
in  the  genre  manner,  which  he  was  one  of  the  first  to 
introduce  into  Italian  painting. 

1  Venusti  named  his  son  Michael  Angelo. 


374  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

THE   AGONY   IN  THE   GARDEN. 

"Les  tableaux  —  c'etaient  des  prieres."  — A.  DE  MDSSET. 

The  early  Christians  never  represented  this  scene.  Like 
so  many  of  the  other  efforts  to  delineate  every  phase  of 
Christ's  sufferings,  the  impulse  to  paint  it  seems  to  have 
sprung  from  the  vivid  description  of  the  Italian  preachers, 
and  from  the  morbid  exaltation  of  the  value  of  physical 
anguish  which  was  partly  the  result  of  the  older  asceti- 
cism, but  was  intensified  by  the  reaction  against  the  enor- 
mous wickedness  and  religious  decadence  of  the  Renais- 
sance epoch. 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  desire  before  the  thir- 
teenth century  to  paint  the  Agony  in  the  Garden.  After 
the  Renaissance,  it  was  attempted  by  Perugino,  Raphael, 
Titian  (Escorial),  Guido  (Louvre),  Basaiti  (Venice), 
Tintoretto,  Overbeck,  and  many  others.  In  the  National 
Gallery  we  have  an  Agony  by  Garofalo,  "the  miniature 
Raphael."  In  this,  as  in  nearly  all  of  the  pictures,  the 
three  disciples  lie  asleep,  and  the  crowd  led  by  Judas  is 
seen  in  the  distance. 

Giovanni  Bellini's  Agony  in  the  Garden  is  an  early 
work  (c.  1455),  but  is  technically  remarkable  for  its 
attempt  to  render  a  twilight  effect  of  light.  It  is,  says 
Mr.  Monkhouse,  "  the  first  picture  in  which  a  head  is  seen 
in  shadow  against  a  brilliant  sky." 

Tintoretto's  picture  is  in  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco,1  but 
it  is  one  of  his  sweeping,  hasty  efforts.  "  It  seems  to  have 
been  executed  altogether  with  a  hearth-broom,  and  in  a 
few  hours."  It  gives  several  curious  effects  of  light,  and 
the  only  remarkable  touch  in  it  is  the  horror  of  his  own 
crime  which  makes  Judas  turn  his  head  away,  unable 
to  look  on  Christ. 

Basaiti's  picture  (A.D.  1510)  is  chiefly  remarkable  as  a 

1  See  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  341. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


375 


glowing  piece  of  colouring.     He  introduces  St.  Francis, 
St.  Louis,  St.  Andrew,  and  St.  Mark. 

Correggio's  Agony  in  the  Garden  (N.  G.  76)  is  one  of  his 
most  admired  pictures.  It  is  a  triumph  of  chiaroscuro. 
The  figure  of 
Christ  is  lighted 
from  heaven,  and 
the  angel  is  illumi- 
nated by  light  re- 
flected from  Him. 
The  angel  points 
upwards  with  one 
hand,  and  with  the 
other  points  to  the 
cross  and  crown 
of  thorns  which 
are  lying  on  the 
ground. 

In  many  pic- 
tures the  meta- 
phor of  "the  cup" 
is  translated  into 
a  reality,  and  is 
even  metamor- 
phosed into  the 
Eucharistic  Chal- 
ice, enshrouded  in 
a  corporal,  and 
with  the  conse- 
crated Host  above  The  Agony.  (Correggio.) 

it! 

The  pictures  of  the  actual  Betrayal  and  of  the  Kiss  of 
Judas  are  numerous.  The  scene  is  represented  by  the 
early  pre-Raphaelites,  and  Duccio  even  paints  the  dis- 
ciples flying,  except  Peter. 

What  all  painters  should  have  striven  to  express  is  the 
thought  of  George  Herbert :  — 


376  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

"Judas,  dost  thou  betray  Me  with  a  kiss? 
Canst  thou  find  hell  about  my  lips,  and  miss 
Of  life,  just  at  the  gates  of  life  and  bliss? 

Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ? 
See  they  lay  hold  on  Me,  not  with  the  hands 
Of  faith,  but  fury  ;  yet  at  their  commands 
I  suffer  binding,  who  have  loosed  their  bands ;  — 
Was  ever  grief  like  mine  ?  " 

But  they  have  too  often  lost  themselves  in  scenes  of 
wild  confusion,  and  effects  of  moonlight  and  torchlight, 
and  almost  grotesque  exaggerations  of  the  action  of  Peter. 
Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  picture  of  the  Betrayal  is 
Van  Dyck's  El  Prendimento  at  Madrid,  which  is  regarded 
as  his  chef-d'oeuvre.  The  ferocity  of  St.  Peter  is  here 
very  remarkable.  With  a  terrific  blow  he  has  hewn  down 
Malchus,  who  lies  on  the  ground  screaming  in  violent 
agony,  and  has  (as  usual)  dropped  his  heavy  lantern.  The 
picture,  as  a  picture,  is  very  fine.  Christ  stands  between 
two  old  gnarled  olive  trees,  from  the  topmost  boughs  of 
which  the  glare  of  the  cressets  has  disturbed  a  frightened 
owl.  He  has  been  seized  by  men  with  fierce  and  brutal 
faces,  who  are  preparing  to  bind  Him,  but  His  own  face  is 
calm,  radiant,  and  beautiful. 

In  painting  Christ  as  He  is  led  away,  the  artists  have 
given  free  reins  to  their  own  invention,  and  have  imagined 
insults  and  brutalities  respecting  which  the  Gospels  are 
entirely  silent.  All  that  the  Evangelists  tell  us  is  that 
Christ  was  "  led  away." 


THE   TRIALS  AND  MOCKINGS. 

"Faire  le  bien,  recolter  1' ingratitude,  se  confier  a  Dieu." — JULES 
SIMON. 

There  are  many  representations,  even  from  early  times, 
of  Christ  before  Annas,  Caiaphas,  Herod,  and  Pilate.  I  do 
not  propose  to  follow  them  farther  than  I  have  already 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


377 


done.  The  appended  woodcut,  from  an  ancient  sarcopha- 
gus, shews  us  Pilate  washing  his  hands,  which  was  a 
common  scene  for 
representation  in 
early  Art.1  The 
greatest  and  best 
painters  —  as,  for 
instance,  Gauden- 
zio  Ferrari  at  Va- 
rallo  —  avoid  the 
deplorable  error  of 
representing  Christ 
in  abjectness  and 
misery.  In  Fer- 
rari's picture  the 
high-priest's  ser- 
vant has  just  vio- 
lently smitten  the 
face  that  angels 
loved  to  look  upon, 
but  has  not  dis- 
turbed its  angelic  majesty.  In  one  of  Angelico's  pictures, 
in  a  cell  of  San  Marco,  the  mockery  is  only  indicated 
with  crude  simplicity,  by  outspread,  or  closed  hands  about 
the  head  of  Christ.  These  were  sufficient  to  symbolize 
the  blows  with  clenched  fist  (e/3a\A,op),  an(i  open  palm 
(/<;oXa<£oi)i  scourges  (^acr-r^e?),  and  rods  (/3a/3Soi),  of 
which  the  Gospels  speak.  On  the  other  hand,  the  pictures 
of  the  Dutch  School  are  marked  by  immense  exaggeration. 
In  that  by  Heemskirk,  a  soldier  is  about  to  strike  Jesus 
with  his  doubled  fist  with  a  violence  which  would  never 
have  been  permitted,  and  would  have  sufficed  to  fell  an 
ox.  Honthorst's  rendering  of  the  same  subject  is  a  mere 
study  of  the  effects  of  candlelight,  though  some  attempt 
is  made  to  give  majesty  to  the  form  and  face  of  Christ. 

1  Fleury,  LXXXIII.  3. 


378  THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST  IN   ART. 

THE   FLAGELLATION. 

"  La  verite  est  cruelle."  — P:ERE  HYACINTHE. 

There  is  a  very  touching  Flagellation,  or  rather  Christ 
after  Flagellation,  by  Moretto  in  the  Palazzo  Martinengo 
at  Brescia.  Christ  has  been  stripped  of  His  garments,  and 
is  seated  on  some  wooden  steps  in  a  deeply  pathetic  atti- 
tude, with  the  cross  lying  at  His  feet  and  a  reed  held  in 
His  bound  hands.  Above  Him  is  an  angel  of  consummate 
beauty,  with  great  white  wings  upholding  the  seamless 
robe,  as  though  immediately  about  to  cover  His  lacerated 
shoulders. 

There  seems  to  me  to  be  more  thought  and  expressive- 
ness in  this  desolate  scene  than  in  any  treatment  of  the 
same  subject  by  the  greatest  Venetian  painters.  It  holds 
its  own  even  with  the  Velasquez  of  our  gallery.  Though 
infinitely  sorrowful,  it  is  yet  majestic  in  its  pathos,  and 
wholly  independent  of  any  vulgar  elements  of  horror  or 
agony.  If  any  one  could  see  this  picture  side  by  side  with 
a  revolting  treatment  of  the  same  subject  by  Rubens,  in 
the  chapel  of  the  Carmelite  nuns  at  Mawgan,  near  New- 
quay,  in  Cornwall,  he  would  be  able  to  measure  the 
enormous  chasm  which  separates  sincere  from  insincere, 
and  noble  from  ignoble  religious  Art. 

The  Scourging  of  Jesus,  whether  with  Jewish  sticks 
(Matt.  xxvi.  67),  or  with  the  Roman  rods  (Matt,  xxvii. 
26),  is  a  subject  which  hardly  could  have  been  painted 
in  the  early  days  when  men  knew  by  eye-witness  the 
unspeakable  horrors  of  the  scutica,  and  of  the  horribile 
flagellum.  Imagination  was  but  a  poor  substitute  for  per- 
sonal familiarity  with  the  degradation  which  sueh  a  scene 
involved.  No  one  could  ever  have  dreamed  of  represent- 
ing it  who  had  power  to  realize  what  the  scourging  of 
Christ  really  was,  and  really  meant.  From  such  a  sight 
angels  would  have  veiled  their  faces,  and  for  five  centuries, 
at  least,  Christians  would  have  regarded  it  as  unspeakably 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  379 

shocking  to  make  it  a  mere  subject  for  art,  to  be  exhibited 
before  all  men's  eyes. 

Nothing  can  be  more  remarkable  than  the  reticence  of 
the  Gospels  respecting  this,  as  well  as  all  the  last  scenes 
of  suffering.  They  tell  us  all  they  care  to  tell  us  in  the 
two  words  (f>paye\\(acra<i  and  e/jLao-Tiyaxrev  (John  xix.  1). 
But  painters  chose  to  borrow  much  more  from  the  isolated 
expressions  of  the  Fathers  and  the  morbid  "  revelations  " 
of  St.  Brigitta.  Because  St.  Jerome  (in  his  commentary 
on  St.  Matthew)  had  said  that  "the  capacious  chest  of 
God  was  torn  with  blows,"  they  usually  represented  Him 
facing  the  spectator,  with  His  back  turned  to  the  column, 
and  the  smiters  scourging  Him  from  behind.  And, 
especially  in  the  German  pictures,  they  become  more  and 
more  irreverent  and  brutal  as  time  goes  on.  Fra  Angelico, 
unable  in  his  gentle  soul  to  realize  the  scene,  and  most 
unwilling  to  intrude  with  curious  scientific  eye  upon  the 
Saviour's  agony,  merely  indicates  the  fact.  Two  almost 
gentle  executioners  hold  the  slight  string  by  which  He  is 
tied  to  the  pillar,  and  uplift  comparatively  harmless  rods, 
while  Christ  turns  His  look  of  mercy  on  one  of  them. 
Luini  represents  Christ  as  being  unbound,  and  not  only 
softens  the  horror  by  the  introduction  of  four  of  his 
sweet  and  noble  saints,  but  irradiates  it  by  the  divine 
beauty  and  majesty  of  the  sufferer,  undimmed,  undefaced, 
undegraded  by  the  tortures  He  has  undergone. 

But  the  Scourging  of  Christ  was  treated  by  some 
painters  with  revolting  vulgarity.  In  the  hands  of  such  a 
man  as  Pollajuolo,  it  might  become  utterly  offensive. 
Luca  Signorelli  could  never  sink  quite  so  low  as  this. 
His  Flagellation  in  the  Brera  does  not  wholly  fail  in  inter- 
est. At  the  right,  on  his  judgment  seat,  Pilate  looks  on, 
pitying  and  disapproving.  But  the  defect  of  the  picture 
is  that  we  gaze  with  admiration  at  the  anatomical  skill 
and  knowledge  displayed  in  the  astonishing  figures  of  the 
two  executioners,  whose  very  scourges  seem  to  whistle 
through  the  air  with  tremendous  blows,  and  in  this  we 


380 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


forget  that  the  whole  interest  should  be  concentrated  on 
the  Divine  Sufferer.  We  see  at  a  glance  that  the  painter 
was  absorbed  in  the  exercise  of  his  own  skill,  not  in  the 


The  Flagellation.    (Luini.) 

awfulness  of  the  scene  depicted.  The  picture  is  mainly  a 
study  of  the  nude.  There  is  another  Christ  at  the  Column 
in  the  Brera,  by  Borgognone.  It  is  pictorially  skilful, 
but  not  to  be  dwelt  upon.  "  The  cheeks,  bedewed  with 
tears,  and  sprinkled  with  drops  of  blood,  recall,"  as  Sir  C. 
Eastlake  truly  says,  "some  of  the  painful  characteristics 
of  early  German  Art." 

There  is  a  Flagellation  by  Morando,  one  of  five  scenes 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST. 


381 


from  the  Passion,  in  the  Museum  of  Verona.  There  are 
but  three  figures.  Oil  the  right  a  soldier  is  tying  Christ 
to  the  column ;  on  the  left  a  savage  and  ugly  executioner 
is  raising  with  all  his  force  a  formidable  scourge.  The 
Christ  wears  the  nimbus,  and  is  full  of  majesty,  though 
there  is  an  expression  of  anguish  in  the  look  which  He 
turns  on  the  executioner. 

But  the  most  supreme  treatment  of  the  subject  is  cer- 
tainly The  Christ  at  the  Column,  by  Velasquez,  in  our 
National  Gallery.  It  is  a  recent  acquisition,  having  only 


Christ  at  the  Column.     (Velasquez.) 

been  presented  to  the  National  Collection  by  Sir  John 
Savile.  in  1888.  What  is  very  remarkable  in  the  picture 
is  the  manner  in  which  the  painter  stirs  our  most  powerful 
sympathies,  though  the  element  of  beauty  is  entirely 
absent.  Christ  is  bound  by  His  hands  to  the  pillar.  His 
figure,  nude,  except  for  a  cincture  round  the  loins,  which 
is  spotted  with  blood,  is  superbly  painted.  The  horrible 
scourge  has  been  flung  down  beside  Him,  and  He  is  left 
there  in  His  utter  anguish.  His  hands  swollen  with  the 


382  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

cords,  and  His  back  lacerated  by  the  blows.  At  the  right 
an  angel  is  bringing  to  Him  a  child  robed  in  white,  who 
bends  to  Him  with  clasped  hands  and  an  expression  of  the 
most  profound  and  tender  pity,  while  the  angel  leaning 
over  the  child  points,  as  though  to  say,  "  Behold  your 
Saviour."  Christ  has  turned  towards  the  child  His  face, 
of  which  the  glory  and  the  sympathy  have  not  been  over- 
powered by  the  intense  anguish  of  the  expression.  He  is 
"helpless  to  help  the  helpless,"  but  from  the  faint  aureole 
which  encircles  His  head  there  streams  one  ray  of  vivid 
light  towards  the  clasped  hands  of  the  little  worshipper. 
No  picture  could  more  nobly  express  —  and  that  with  the 
almost  wilful  exclusion  of  all  elements  of  beauty  in  child, 
or  angel,  or  suffering  Saviour  —  the  glory,  the  victory, 
the  divineness,  the  ultimate  invincibility  of  holiness  even 
in  the  hour  and  power  of  darkness,  and  under  the  appear- 
ance of  abject  defeat.  If  it  be  permissible  to  paint  such 
subjects  at  all,  it  is  in  this  spirit  that  they  ought  to  be 
painted. 

On  the  other  hand,  of  all  the  revolting  pictures  in  the 
world  scarcely  one  is  more  horrifying  than  the  Flagella- 
tions by  Van  Tulken  at  Brussels,  and  Ludovico  Carracci 
at  Bologna.  Here  one  of  the  brutal  executioners  has 
forced  Christ  down  to  His  knees  and  drags  up  His  head 
by  clutching  hold  of  His  hair.  It  is  a  picture  to  shudder 
at,  and  to  abhor,  —  of  such  I  will  add  nothing,  "  Non 
ragioniam  di  lor,  ma  guarda  e  passa." 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  383 


THE    CROWN   OF   THORNS. 

' '  Haec  pugnantis  galea 
Triumphantis  laurea 

Tyara  Pontificis  : 
Prhnuin  fuit  spinea 
Post  modum  fit  aurea 

Tactu  sancti  verticis. " 

BOXA VENTURA. 

The  Derision  of  Christ  as  a  Mock  King  has  frequently 
been  made  the  subject  of  painting.  We  have  mentioned 
Albrecht  Durer,  and  the  over-violence  of  his  treatment 
appeared  in  all  other  renderings  of  the  subject.  It  has 
been  painted  by  Guercino  (Munich),  by  Van  Dyck 
(Berlin),  and  at  least  twice  by  Titian.  In  his  Louvre 
picture,  two  singularly  savage  executioners  are  using  their 
reeds  as  levers  to  drive  the  thorns  more  deeply  into  the 
brow  of  the  suffering  Christ.  One  soldier,  in  chain 
armour,  has  his  back  to  the  spectator,  and  his  arm  is 
round  the  shoulders  of  his  comrade,  who  peers  curiously 
into  the  Saviour's  face  to  watch  the  effect  of  the  torture  to 
which  He  is  being  subjected.  We  are  at  once  struck  by 
the  tendency  to  monstrous  exaggeration,  and  the  contrast 
which  it  furnished  to  the  few  simple  words  of  the  Gospel, 
"when  they  had  plaited  a  crown  of  thorns  they  put  it 
upon  His  head." 

There  is  a  fifteenth-century  treatment  of  this  subject  by 
De  Coxcie,  where  an  executioner  is  (as  usual)  raising  a 
staff  to  lever  the  crown  of  thorns  upon  the  forehead,  while 
a  youth  kneels  with  a  bulrush-sceptre ;  one  soldier  does 
mock  homage,  and  another  in  full  armour  is  about  to 
strike  a  tremendous  blow  with  his  open  palm. 

Van  Dyck  has  painted  the  Crowning  with  Thorns  in  a 
picture  which  is  regarded  as  one  of  his  masterpieces.  A 
grave-looking  soldier  in  a  helmet  and  panoply  is  placing 
the  wreath  on  the  glorious  head,  while  a  half-naked  man, 
kneeling  in  mock  homage,  thrusts  the  bulrush  into  the 


384  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

bound  hands.  More  than  one  of  the  spectators  seem  to  be 
genuinely  moved,  especially  the  man  who  looks  on  at  the 
right  in  pity  and  admiration. 

Monsieur  C.  Blanc  expresses  the  highest  admiration  for 
the  ideals  of  Christ  as  set  forth  by  Van  Dyck,  whether  He 
be  painted  on  the  cross  with  saints  and  angels  around 
Him,  or  alone  on  the  mountain  top,  under  the  darkness  of 
the  night.  "  Recently,"  writes  Monsieur  Blanc,  "  I  found 
myself  standing  before  one  of  these  pathetic  pictures, 
and  felt  an  extraordinary  and  quite  unexpected  emotion. 
Nothing  could  be  more  touching  to  look  upon  than  the 
victim  thus  abandoned  on  Golgotha,  in  the  depths  of  the 
darkness,  while  the  disciples  have  departed,  and  Mary 
herself  has  been  drawn  far  away  from  the  accursed 
scene." J 

ECCE   HOMO  ! 

The  subject  of  "  Behold  the  Man  "  does  not  occur  in 
the  Catacombs,  and  was   never   rendered   by  the   Greek 
Church.     Neither  Giotto  nor  Duccio  represent  it.     Many 
later   painters   tried   their   utmost  to  paint  a  true   Ecce 
Homo  !     I  have  never  seen  one  which 
t  ...-••;€"" '."'->,.i  seemed  to  me  at  all  satisfactory.     Of 

those  in  the  National  Gallery,  Cor- 
reggio's  (No.  15)  is  perhaps  the  best. 
The    pathos    is    heightened    by    the 
figure  of  the  Virgin,  who  has  loosened 
her  hold  on  the  balustrade  over  which 
she  has  been  gazing,  and  is  "  swooning 
into   the    arms   of   the    Magdalene." 
Not  much  can  be  said  of  the  thorn- 
Ecce  Homo.  (Guido.)         crowned  Christ  by  an  unknown  Flem- 
ish master  (No.  1083),  nor  of  that  by 
Roger  van  der  Weyden  (No.  712),  ghastly  with  blood  and 
tears ;  nor  of  that  by  Guido  (No.  271),  with  the  inscrip- 

1  tfcole  Flamande. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  385 

tion,  "  Behold  and  see  if  there  is  any  sorrow  like  unto 
My  sorrow."  This  last  does  not  indeed  err  on  the  side 
of  dolorous  ugliness,  so  much  as  on  that  of  unreal  sen- 
timentality. He  must  be  indeed  a  consummate  master 
who  could  satisfy  us  in  his  attempt  to  render  such  a 
theme. 

Under  this  head  we  may  class  Giovanni  Bellini's  The 
Blood  of  the  Redeemer.  It  is  thus  described  by  Sir  F.  W. 
Burton :  — 

"  A  mystic  subject.  The  risen  Saviour,  unclothed  but 
for  a  linen  loin-cloth,  stands  before  us,  encircling  with  His 
left  arm  the  cross,  on  which  hangs  the  crown  of  thorns. 
Of  the  pierced  hands,  the  left  presses  the  wound  in  the 
side,  while  the  right  is  extended  with  open  palm.  His 
look  and  gestures  seem  to  demonstrate  that  the  blood 
which  pours  from  the  lance  wound  is  freely  given  for  the 
redemption  of  the  world.  The  blood  is  received  in  a 
chalice  by  a  little  kneeling  angel,  winged,  and  wearing  a 
long  violet-gray  tunic.  The  figures  are  on  a  terrace, 
which  is  paved  with  squares  of  marble,  white  and  black, 
and  enclosed  by  a  parapet,  decorated  with  antique  reliefs 
modelled  in  gold  on  a  black  ground.  Beyond  this  is  a 
sombre  landscape,  with  castellated  buildings  on  the  left, 
and  ruins  on  the  right ;  near  the  latter  are  seen  two 
small  figures.  Towards  the  high  horizon  is  a  distant 
town  amidst  low  hills.  The  streaky  sky  indicates  early 
dawn.' 

No  one  can  look  at  this  picture  without  recognizing 
the  intensity  of  devotional  feeling  by  which  it  was  in- 
spired. Some  may  be  surprised  to  see  that  the  marble 
panels  of  the  balustrade  above  the  pavement  of  black  and 
white  marble  on  which  the  Saviour  stands,  are  adorned 
with  bas-reliefs  of  satyrs,  and  a  sacrifice  to  heathen  gods. 
Had  this  occurred  in  a  picture  of  Mantegna,  we  might 
have  set  it  down  to  classicalism,  but  what  Bellini  meant  to 
indicate  is  expressed  by  Mrs.  Barrett  Browning :  — 


386  THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST  IN   ART. 

"  Oh,  ye  vain,  false  gods  of  Hellas, 

Ye  are  silent  evermore ! 
And  I  dash  down  this  old  chalice 

Whence  libations  ran  of  yore  — 
See !  the  wine  crawls  in  the  dust, 
Worm-like  as  your  glories  must, 
Since  Pan  is  dead  !  " 

Cigoli's  masterpiece  is  the  Ecce  Homo  in  the  Pitti  at 
Florence,  and  in  that  picture  he  has  represented  Christ 
with  nobleness  and  patient  dignity.  The  picture  by 
Gaudenzio  Ferrari  at  Milan  is  also  a  reverential  one.  The 
suffering  Saviour  is  not  humiliated.  His  grand  figure 
stands  with  crossed  arms,  and  a  reed  in  one  hand,  while 
two  attendants,  almost  awed  into  pity,  draw  over  His 
shoulders  the  purple  robe.1  Tintoret's  picture  of  Christ 
before  Pilate  derives  its  "  sublime  magic  "  from  the  light 
and  colours  and  "  the  gloom  and  chill  of  evening  with  the 
white-stoled  figure  standing  resignedly  before  the  judge." 


STATIONS  OF  THE   CROSS. 

The  Gospel  narratives  of  Christ's  path  to  Calvary  are 
marked  by  severe  and  holy  reserve.  The  love  of  horror 
led  the  Renaissance  painters  to  aggravate  and  exaggerate 
every  incident  which  they  did  not  invent.  Thus  we  get 
the  seven  scenes  —  afterwards  multiplied  into  fourteen  — 
which  are  known  as  "  The  Stations  of  the  Cross." 

The  early  Christians,  when  they  had  got  so  far  as  to 
bear  any  representations  of  such  scenes,  were  content  with 
the  emblem  of  Isaac.  We  read  in  the  Pesikta  Rabbathi 
(f.  52),  a  comment  on  the  four  Books  of  Moses,  that 
"Isaac  bore  the  wood  as  one  carries  a  cross  on  his 

1  The  subject  has  been  painted  by  Guido  several  times ;  by  Sodoma 
twice  ;  by  Tintoret  twice  ;  by  Murillo  four  times  ;  by  Annibale  Carracci ; 
and  three  times  by  Titian.  One  of  Titian's  is  a  large  picture  at  Vienna, 
dated  1543,  in  which  his  friend,  the  execrable  Aretino,  is  painted  as 
Pontius  Pilate. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  387 

shoulders."  The  death  of  Christ  is  also  symbolized  by 
the  offering  of  Isaac.1  One  Rabbinic  legend  held  that  he 
had  been  actually  slain,  and  restored  to  Abraham  from  the 
dead.2 

There  is  not  the  least  trace  of  the  so-called  "  Stations 
of  the  Cross"  in  the  early  times.  They  seem  to  have 
originated  with  Martin  Kotzel,  a  citizen  of  Nuremberg,  no 
earlier  than  1477.  He  had  visited  Jerusalem,  and  what  is 
traditionally  (but  very  uncertainly)  known  as  the  Via 
Dolorosa,  and  he  got  Adam  Kraft,  a  friend  of  Diirer,  to 
paint  these  seven  scenes,  ending  in  a  crucifixion,  at  places 
on  the  road,  between  his  house  and  the  Church  of  St. 
John.  The  seven  original  stations  are :  1.  Christ  bear- 
ing the  Cross.  2.  He  falls.3  3.  He  meets  the  Virgin. 
4.  He  falls  again.  5.  St.  Veronica  lends  Him  the 
Handkerchief.  6.  He  falls  a  Third  Time.  7.  The  En- 
tombment. The  pictures  of  these  scenes  become  mere 
confused  representations  of  tumult,  vulgarity,  and  violence. 
"  The  reader  will  not  wonder,"  says  Lady  Eastlake,  "  that 
real  Art  has  been  shy  of  the  subject.  It  bore  contemptible 
fruit  in  such  art  as  it  has  generally  enlisted,  and  there  are 
no  objects  which  the  eye  shuns  more  instinctively  than 
this  unvarying  series  in  the  nave  of  a  Roman  Catholic 
Church." 

Three  pictures  in  our  National  Gallery  represent  inci- 
dents in  the  Procession  to  Calvary.  The  eye  will  at  once 
be  caught  by  the  crudely  glaring  colours  of  Ridolfo  del 
Ghirlandajo's  picture  in  the  first  room.  It  was  painted 
when  he  was  only  twenty-two,  and  is  highly  praised  by 
Vasari.  But  the  brilliant  hues  alone  impress  us.  It  is 
full  of  portraits  of  his  own  garzoni,  and  others.  Ugolino 

1  See  the  learned  treatise  of  Stockbauer,  Kunstgesch  des  Kreuzes,  6. 
The  Rabbis,  dividing  the  first  word  of  Genesis,  Beresh'ith,  into  Bara 
$htth,  "  He  created  a  ram,"  referred  it  mystically  to  Gen.  xxii.  6.     Bere- 
shith  Rabbet  ad  loc. 

2  I  may  refer  to  my  note  on  Heb.  xi.  19,  in  the  Cambridge  Bible  for 
Schools. 

3  The  earliest  representation  of  this  apocryphal  incident. 


388  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

of  Siena  (No.  1189),  two  centuries  earlier,  is  far  inferior 
in  skill,  but  treats  the  subject  much  more  severely  in  his 
little  picture.  We  have  another,  assigned  to  Boccacino 
(No.  806),  which  is  merely  a  composition  of  many  small 
figures.  The  favourite  incident  of  the  legendary  St. 
Veronica  and  her  handkerchief  is  painted  by  Meister 
Wilhelm  of  Cologne  (about  1380),  perhaps  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  Views  of  the  Mystics,  who  held  that  the 
saint  "  studies  to  be  quiet,  that  his  still  soul  may  reflect 
the  image  of  God."  l 

In  the  earlier  representations  of  Christ  bearing  the 
cross  (as  in  the  latest  Catacombs  and  on  the  gates  of  San 
Zeno,  in  Verona)  the  cross  is  a  mere  light  symbol.  It 
becomes  in  later  pictures  a  monstrous  and  impossible 
structure  which  no  man  could  carry  at  all.  The  supposed 
incident  of  St.  Veronica  is  perhaps  a  case  of  mythology 
developed  by  a  disease  of  language,  if  the  name  be  de- 
rived from  Vera  Ikon,  "  a  true  image."  Many  of  the  inci- 
dents painted  come  not  from  the  Gospels,  but  from  the 
hysteric  fancies  of  St.  Brigitha  —  such,  for  instance,  as 
the  striking  of  Christ  on  the  neck  and  face.  The  Gospels 
do  not  tell  us  that  our  Lord  fell  or  fainted  under  the  cross 
at  all.  Probably  the  only  reason  why  Simon  of  Gyrene 
was  made  to  bear  it,  was  because  Jesus  was  too  much 
weakened  by  long  hours  of  insult  and  agony  to  move  so 
rapidly  as  the  impatient  Roman  soldiers  —  to  whom  a  cru- 
cifixion was  an  every-day  event  —  desired.  The  Gospels, 
moreover,  tell  us  simply  that  Christ  was  "  led  away  "  to  be 
crucified.  The  notion  of  His  being  dragged  by  ropes,  and 
beaten  along,  is  a  wholly  apocryphal  invention.2 

Happily,  scarcely  a  single  modern  painter  has  dared  to 
paint  the  actual  nailing  to  the  cross.  Fra  Angelico  did, 

1  Beard,  Hibbert  Lectures;  quoted  by  Conway,  p.  27.  The  fourteen 
stations  originated  with  the  Franciscans  in  1561,  and  were  not  common 
before  1699.  For  a  fuller  account  of  them,  see  Stockbauer,  pp.  325-332. 

2  When  Simon  took  the  cross,  he  bore  it  entirely,  not  as  the  pictures 
represent.  Athanas,  Serm.  de  Cruce,  20;  Ambros  in  Luc.  x. ;  Jer.  in 
Matt,  xxvii.  32  ;  Aug.  Cons.  Evang.,  iii.  10  ;  Stockbauer,  p.  5. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  389 

indeed,  handle  it,  but  with  such  sweet  reverence  as  to 
render  it  endurable.  Some  of  the  mediaeval  painters  were 
guided  by  the  "  visions  "  of  St.  Brigitha.  Later  painters 
only  revelled  in  anatomy.  Rubens  (in  1616)  and  Van 
Dyck  (in  1632),  among  others  represent,  in  scenes  of  nude 
and  writhing  muscularity,  the  Elevation  of  the  cross ;  but 
until  the  decadence  of  all  deep  religious  feeling  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  such  subjects  were  shunned.  Raphael 
painted  the  famous  Spasimo  di  Sicilia ;  but  he  usually 
avoided  such  scenes,  and  might  better  have  avoided  this.1 
The  Spasimo  is  the  Virgin's  swoon.  None  but  the  old 
ideal  purists  bear  in  mind  the  majestic  words  of  Jesus, 
"  No  man  taketh  My  life  from  Me,  but  I  lay  it  down  of 
Myself.  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power 
to  take  it  up."  2 

THE   CRUCIFIXION. 

GENERAL  THOUGHTS. 

"  Painting  and  Sculpture  now  are  no  more  gain 
To  stir  the  soul  turned  to  that  Godhead  dear, 
Stretching  great  arms  out  to  us  from  His  cross." 

—  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

"  Ecquis  binas  columbinas 
Alas  dabit  animse, 
Ut  in  almam  Crucis  palmam 
E volet  citissime  ?" 

—  BONAVENTURA. 

We  have  had  occasion  to  observe  that  vast  revolutions 
of  thought  and  feeling  have  swept   over  the   domain  of 

1  There  is  an  early  Christ  bearing  the  Cross,  by  Raphael,  painted  for 
the  nuns  of  St.  Antonio,  at  Perugia,  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Windsor. 

2  In  point  of  fact,  in  accordance  with  Roman  custom,  Jesus  probably 
mounted  His  own  cross.    St.  Athanas  de  pass,  et  cruce.     So  Ambrose  in 
Luc.  x. ;  so  Angelico  represents  it  in  1455.     So  Giotto  had  already  done 
in  a  small  triptych,  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  D.  E.  Street.    A  ladder 
is  placed  against  the  cross  and  Christ  is  ascending  it  with  perfect  calmness 
and   dignity.      As  regards  the  shape  of  the  cross,  we  hear  absolutely 
nothing  from  the  supposed  "  Invention  "  of  the  cross  by  St.  Helena,  of 
which  Eu^ebius  is  silent.  —  De  Vita.  Const.,  iii.  42. 


390  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Art ;  that  at  first  the  early  Christians  shrank  from  repre- 
senting Christ  otherwise  than  by  symbol ;  that  from  sym- 
bols they  passed  to  types,  and  from  types  to  distant 
idealizations.  It  was  only  very  gradually,  and  in  the 
course  of  long  centuries,  that  reverent  idealization  was 
expelled  by  reverent  naturalism,  and  reverent  naturalism 
was  ultimately  ousted  by  coarse  and  irreverent  realism. 

The  abstinence  of  early  Christian  Art  from  all  direct 
representations  of  the  suffering  Christ  was  due  to  two 
causes.  One  was  that  deep  and  awful  reverence  for  the 
Godhead,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken,  combined  with 
the  conviction  that  Christ  "  dieth  no  more,"  but  is  ever 
with  us  as  a  Living  and  Glorified  Presence ;  the  other,  the 
insuperable  antipathy  to  the  Gospel  which  such  images 
inspired  among  the  Pagans.  The  taunt  that  they  "wor- 
shipped a  crucified  man,"  was  one  at  which  ordinary 
Christians  found  it  difficult  not  to  blush.  They  found  it 
hard  to  answer  the  question  of  the  heathen,  "  Quale  cor 
habetis  qui  deum  colitis  crucifixum?"  Nor  would  the 
heathen  easily  comprehend  the  reply  of  St.  Augustine, 
"  The  Son  of  God  was  crucified,  not  that  the  cross  should 
disgrace  Christ,  but  that  by  the  Sacrament  of  Christ  the 
cross  should  become  the  ensign  of  our  victory." l 

The  second  of  these  causes  disappeared  gradually  after 
the  "  Peace  of  the  Church,"  and  the  conversion  of  Con- 
stantine  in  the  fourth  century  ;  but  the  first  was  only  worn 
away  gradually  during  the  subsequent  500  years ;  and 
awful  reverence  was  gradually  replaced  by  glaring  and 
downright  profanity. 

In  course  of  time  the  painters  of  what  is  called  the 
Catholic  Revival  came  to  the  rescue  of  the  devout  minds 
which  had  been  offended  by  the  brutalities  of  the  Tene- 
brosi.  But  by  the  seventeenth  century  the  old  simplicity 
of  faith  was  dead,  its  place  was  usurped  by  a  sort  of  hys- 
teric sentimentality.  In  painters  like  Domenichino  and 

1  See  Lucian,  Peregr.,  Cyril  Alex.,  c.  Jul.,  vi.  194  ;  Aug.  Senn.,  viii.,  etc.; 
Stockbauer,  p.  152. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  391 

Carlo  Dolci,  the  rapturous  ecstasy  which  in  Fra  Angelico 
was  spontaneous,  had  become  affected,  and  perhaps  half- 
unconsciously  insincere.  By  that  time  Art  could  no 
longer  rely  on  the  inherent  pathos  and  majesty  of  its  sub- 
jects. The  appeal  to  men's  feelings  had  to  be  very 
moving.  Ecce  Homos  and  Madonnas  bathed  in  tears, 
became  the  subjects  in  which  painters  aimed  at  securing 
their  most  acknowledged  triumphs. 

No  doubt  the  needs  of  different  ages  are  not  the  same, 
and  the  presentations  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind  will  vary 
with  the  character  impressed  on  men's  minds  by  the  re- 
ligion of  the  day.  But  if  the  religion  of  an  epoch  has 
become  weak,  artificial,  or  mainly  external,  the  decadence 
of  feeling  will  be  reflected  in  its  works  of  Art. 

Were  the  early  Christians  right  or  wrong  in  the  in- 
tensity of  their  reserve  ?  Is  it,  or  is  it  not  permissible  — 
and  if  permissible,  is  it,  or  is  it  not  desirable  —  to  repre- 
sent the  Human  Christ?  If  so,  is  it  also  allowable  to 
paint  Him,  who  is  the  Lord  of  Glory,  in  the  depths  of  His 
brief  and  transient  humiliation  ? 

From  personal  feeling,  and  theological  conviction,  I 
should  certainly  answer  that,  in  the  abstract,  the  holy 
reserve  of  the  early  Christians  was  safer  and  more  wise. 
But  the  force  of  custom  is  great,  and  the  more  dangerous 
tendencies  of  Art  may  be  so  silently  and  so  powerfully 
corrected  by  inward  convictions  and  habits  of  thought,  as 
to  render  them  partially  innocuous ;  —  partially,  not  com- 
pletely. It  is  much  to  be  feared  that  Christendom  has 
lost  —  lost  in  reverence,  lost  in  the  innocent  brightness  of 
life,  lost  in  tolerance,  lost  in  the  exultation  and  singleness 
of  heart,  which,  as  St.  Luke  tells  us,  were  the  beautiful 
characteristics  of  the  early  Christians,  by  altering  the  per- 
spective of  predominant  thought  respecting  Christ,  which 
prevails  throughout  His  own  teaching  and  that  of  the 
Apostles.  The  mistaken  application  of  two  texts,  which, 
taken  in  their  true  meaning,  give  no  sanction  to  the  all- 
but-exclusive  contemplation  of  Christ's  brief  temporal  suf- 


392  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

ferings,  has  led  Christians  to  regard  Him  exclusively  as 
the  agonized  Sufferer,  and  to  substitute  what  He  once  did 
for  all  that  He  was,  and  all  that  He  now  does,  and  all  that 
He  eternally  requires.  Such  unscriptural  one-sidedness 
involves  a  wrong  view  of  life,  a  wrong  conception  of 
Christianity,  and  a  wrong  estimate  of  religious  duty. 
We  may,  with  all  reverence,  use  on  this  subject  the 
words  of  the  great  Italian  poet,  philosopher,  and  monk, 
Campanella :  — 

"  If  Christ  was  only  three  hours  crucified, 
After  few  years  of  toil  and  misery, 
Which  for  mankind  He  suffered  willingly, 
While  heaven  was  won  for  ever  when  He  died, 
Why  should  He  still  be  shewn  on  every  side 
Painted  and  preached  in  nought  but  agony, 
Whose  pains  were  light,  matched  with  His  victory? 
Why  rather  speak  and  write  not  of  the  realm 
He  holds  in  heaven,  and  soon  will  hold  below, 
Unto  the  praise  and  glory  of  His  name? 
Ah,  foolish  crowd !  this  world's  thick  vapour  whelms 
Your  eyes  unworthy  of  that  glorious  show, 
Blind  to  His  splendour,  bent  upon  His  shame." 

I  hold,  then,  that  the  late  unscriptural,  unprimitive, 
irreverent  introduction  of  the  crucifix  into  the  ordinary 
emblems  of  Christianity,  involved  a  failure  in  all  true 
apprehension  of  the  aspect  in  which  we  should  habitually 
regard  our  Risen,  Glorified,  Ascended  Lord.  Of  the 
danger  of  idolatry  —  real  as  that  danger  is  —  I  will  say 
nothing.1  "It  cannot  be  denied,"  says  Dr.  Dale,  "that 
the  image  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  His  dying 
agony,  with  His  hands  and  feet  nailed  to  the  cross,  the 
crown  of  thorns  upon  His  brow,  and  His  face  lined  with 
suffering,  may  produce  a  very  powerful  impression  on  the 
imagination  and  the  heart.  There  are  some  who  found  in 
the  strength  of  that  impression  a  sufficient  justification 
for  the  devotional  use  of  the  crucifix.  .  .  .  But  pre- 

1  See  Jeremy  Taylor,  Dissuasive  Against  Popery,  Bk.  II.  6. 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  393 

cisely  the  same  argument  might  have  been  used  in  de- 
fence of  the  golden  calf  by  which  Aaron  satisfied  the 
craving  of  the  Jews  for  a  visible  representation  of  Jehovah. 
And  there  are  objections  of  another  kind  to  this  prostra- 
tion of  the  soul  before  the  image  of  the  dying  Christ.  It 
makes  our  worship  and  our  prayer  unreal.  We  are  adoring 
a  Christ  who  does  not  exist.  He  is  not  on  the  cross  now, 
but  on  the  throne.  His  agonies  are  past  forever.  He 
has  risen  from  the  dead.  He  is  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 
If  we  pray  to  a  dying  Christ,  we  are  praying  not  to 
Christ  Himself,  but  to  a  mere  remembrance  of  Him.  The 
injury  which  the  crucifix  has  inflicted  on  the  religious 
life  of  Christendom,  in  encouraging  a  morbid  and  unreal 
devotion,  is  absolutely  incalculable.  It  has  given  us  a 
dying  Christ  instead  of  a  living  Christ,  a  Christ  separated 
from  us  by  many  centuries,  instead  of  a  Christ  nigh  at 
hand.  We  have  no  more  right  to  invent  a  divine  appeal 
to  the  religious  emotion,  than  we  have  to  invent  a  divine 
appeal  to  the  understanding  or  the  conscience."  1 

Mr.  Ruskin,  intense  as  are  his  sympathies  with  all  that 
is  great  and  true  in  Art,  has  often  raised  a  warning  voice 
to  the  same  effect.  "  In  its  higher  branches,"  he  says, 
"  this  realistic  art  touches  the  most  sincere  religious  mind ; 
but  in  its  lowest,  it  not  only  addresses  itself  to  the  most 
vulgar  desire  for  religious  excitement,  but  to  the  mere 
thirst  for  sensation,  for  horror,  which  characterizes  the  un- 
educated orders  of  partially  civilized  countries,  —  and  it 
has  occupied  the  sensibility  of  Christian  women  invari- 
ably in  lamenting  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  instead  of 
preventing  those  of  the  people,  —  for  the  art  nearly 
always  dwells  on  the  physical  wounds  or  exhaustion 
chiefly,  and  degrades,  far  more  than  it  animates,  the  con- 
ception of  pain.  Try  to  conceive  the  quantity  of  true 
and  of  excited  and  thrilling  emotions  which  have  been 
wasted  by  the  tender  and  delicate  women  of  Christendom 
during  the  last  six  hundred  years,  in  thus  picturing  to 

1  Dr.  Dale,  The  Ten  Commandments. 


394  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

themselves  under  the  influence  of  such  imagery,  the 
bodily  pain,  long  since  past,  of  One  —  and  then  try  to 
estimate  what  might  have  been  the  better  result  for  the 
righteousness  and  felicity  of  mankind,  if  these  same 
women  had  been  taught  the  deep  meaning  of  the  last 
words  ever  spoken  by  their  Master  to  those  who  had 
ministered  to  Him  of  their  substance :  '  Daughters  of 
Jerusalem,  weep  not  for  Me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and 
for  your  children.'  ...  The  wretched  we  have  always 
with  us,  Him  we  have  not  always.  Such  I  conceive  has 
been  the  deadly  function  of  Art  in  its  ministry  to  what 
must  be  called  idolatry  —  the  serving  with  the  best  of 
our  hearts  and  minds,  some  dear  or  sad  fantasy  which  we 
have  made  for  ourselves,  while  we  disobey  the  present  call 
of  the  Master,  who  is  not  now  dead,  who  is  not  now  faint- 
ing under  His  cross,  but  requiring  us  to  take  up  ours." J 

It  is,  I  suppose,  the  undeniable  object  of  the  religious 
tendencies  to  which  the  crucifix  and  all  the  ghastly 
calvaries  of  Romish  countries  are  due,  to  kindle  our  sen- 
sibilities respecting  the  physical  sufferings  of  Christ.  Yet 
in  pursuing  such  a  course  we  run  directly  counter  to  the 
entire  teaching  of  the  New  Testament.  We  do  not,  in  our 
recent  innovation  of  "  Three  Hours'  Services,"  go  so  far  as 
the  Mexican  priests,  who  artificially  darken  their  churches, 
and  toll  their  bells,  and  go  about  in  mourning,  and 
encourage  their  "  penitents "  to  scourge  themselves  — 
sometimes  almost  to  death  —  with  iron  chains  and  balls, 
till  the  floor  of  the  church  swims  in  blood.  But  the 
whole  tendency  of  the  discourses  delivered  often  seems 
to  be  to  try  and  make  people  shrink  with  horror  at  the 
bodily  agonies  of  crucifixion. 

How  totally  different  was  the  aim  of  the  Evangelists ! 

In  the  fourfold  story  of  the  Gospels,  beyond  the  barest 
narrative  of  facts  touched  on  in  the  simplest  and  least 
detailed  manner,  there  is  but  one  single  word  devoted  to 
physical  anguish  —  the  one  word  Sii/r<w,  "  I  thirst." 

1  Art  of  England,  pp.  54-56. 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  395 

And  how  totally  different  was  the  teaching  of  the 
Risen  Christ !  His  very  first  words  to  the  first  disciple 
who  saw  His  risen  form,  were  the  questions,  "  Woman,  why 
weepest  thou  ?  Whom  seekest  thou  ?  " 

During  the  great  forty  days  we  are  not  led  to  suppose 
that  He  spoke  to  His  chosen  ones  a  single  word  about  His 
physical  anguish,  though  He  explained  to  the  two  on  the 
way  to  Emmaus  why  it  was  of  moral  fitness  that  Christ 
should  suffer  before  He  entered  into  His  glory. 

And  how  totally  different  was  the  line  adopted  by  the 
inspired  Apostles ! 

It  was  necessary  for  them  to  insist  that  Jesus,  though 
crucified,  was  yet  the  Christ,  and  to  glory  in  the  cross  as 
the  proof  that  He  learnt  obedience  by  the  things  that  He 
suffered ;  but  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  the  Epistles, 
there  is  not  the  most  distant  attempt  to  fix  the  thoughts  on 
images  of  pain,  but  rather  on  images  of  glory.  Through- 
out the  whole  New  Testament  the  conception  of  Christ  is 
infinitely  too  exalted  to  admit  of  any  attempt  to  excite 
a  sense  of  pity  for  His  sufferings.  Such  a  feeling  is 
easily  stimulated.  Pity  is  roused  to  madness  every  year 
among  thousands  of  Moslim  in  the  plays  which  bring 
before  them  the  tragic  fates  of  Hassan  and  Hosein. 
Adoration,  gratitude,  obedience  to  Him,  shame  for  the 
sins  which  crucify  Him  afresh,  horror  for  the  treachery 
which,  in  the  name  of  the  most  orthodox  and  the  most 
scrupulous  religion,  could  consummate  the  crime  of  His 
murder  —  these  are  the  feelings  which  the  Gospel  story 
is  intended  to  awaken.  Such  feelings  lead  to  the  noble 
activity  which  a  morbid  and  hysteric  pity  only  tends  to 
hinder  altogether,  or  to  divert  into  effeminate  and  arti- 
ficial channels. 

Nay,  more ;  the  Apostles  and  Evangelists  seem  im- 
patient of  dwelling  even  for  a  moment  on  the  thought 
of  Christ  as  dead. 

"  He  died  for  our  sins  —  and  rose  again  for  our  justifi- 
cation." 


396  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

"  It  is  Christ  that  died  —  yea,  rather  that  is  risen 
again." 

"  I  am  He  that  liveth  and  was  dead,  —  and  behold  I  am 
alive  for  evermore" 

Surely  the  early  Christians  were  more  in  the  right  than 
we ! 

Let  us  take  a  salient  instance  of  the  total  perversion  of 
soul  from  all  healthy  religious  life  produced  by  the  morbid, 
unauthorized,  and  hysterical  dwelling  upon  the  physical 
agonies  of  Christ.  It  is  furnished  in  the  life  of  "  a  monk 
lord  of  the  fifteenth  century,"  and  has  been  told  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"No  David,  eager  to  fight  the  giant,  this  Galeotto 
Malatesta,  but  a  wan,  emaciated  youth,  half-crazed,  half- 
saint.  In  the  middle  panic,  with  the  horror  of  a  triple 
sack  maddening  with  fear  the  miserable  Riminese,  this 
prince  left  the  city,  to  dwell  in  the  monastery  of  Arc- 
angelo,  outside  the  gates.  There  he  passed  his  days 
serene,  scathless  in  the  midst  of  peril ;  neither  for  himself 
nor  his  kingdom  took  he  any  thought.  So  strange  this 
spectacle,  so  awful,  that  the  very  enemies  of  Rimini 
stopped  in  their  onslaught,  amazed.  The  lion,  it  is  said, 
will  not  attack  a  sleeping  prey.  Eugenius,  the  Pope,  in 
his  temporal  character  the  deadly  foe  of  Rimini,  wrote 
to  its  lord,  bidding  him  remember  the  imperative  duties  of 
his  position.  The  letter  reached  that  'magnificent  man 
and  potent  prince '  in  the  monastery  at  Arcangelo,  where, 
clad  in  the  coarse  robes  of  a  Franciscan  friar,  he  led  an 
ascetic,  starved,  and  mutilated  life.  What  was  the  mag- 
nificence of  earth  to  him  ?  So  harsh  were  his  self-inflicted 
penances,  that  the  wounds  on  his  body  never  ceased  to 
bleed.  What  had  he  to  do  with  rule  and  governance  ? 
The  brothers  of  the  monastery,  and  the  young  virgin 
wife  who  drooped  and  paled  at  his  side,  were  all  of  man- 
kind he  knew  or  saw ;  and  he  himself  the  chief  of  sinners. 
Neither  Pope  nor  armies  could  force  him  back  to  earth. 
Thus,  friends  and  foes  alike  failed  to  touch  him  ;  there  was 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  397 

no  pity  in  the  heart  of  Galeotto  the  saint.  Or  rather,  — 
common,  yet  tragical  transmutation  of  the  Middle  Ages,  — 
his  pity  took  a  retrospective  turn ;  dead  and  dry  to  the 
present  woes  it  might  relieve,  it  rushed  back  in  a  mighty, 
impotent  tide  to  the  foot  of  that  sacred  and  awful  cross, 
whose  divine  tragedy  was  the  continual  spectacle  of  the 
saintly  life.  Pity  for  the  dead  Christ,  throbbing,  yearning, 
helpless,  and  indignant  pity  for  the  agonized  Saviour,  this 
surely  lay  at  the  bottom  of  all  crusades,  tortures,  persecu- 
tions, inquisitions  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Living  ever  with 
the  crucifix  in  sight ;  dwelling  ever  and  solely  in  presence 
of  that  dread  expiation ;  to  such  fanatics  as  Galeotto,  the 
example  of  the  life  of  Christ  was  nullified  by  the  terror 
and  pity  of  Golgotha.  Vengeance  on  the  enemies  of  God ! 
Vengeance  on  the  traitors  who  still  stab  and  crucify  the 
ever  newly  sacrificed  God  and  victim !  So  ran  the  tenor 
of  mediaeval  piety.  And  the  contagion  of  this  fanatic 
sentiment  slaughtered  the  armies  of  the  East,  tossed  Albi- 
gensian  babies  on  to  lance  points,  and  roasted  before  a 
ribald  soldiery  the  pious  Vaudois  women.  The  martyrs 
of  St.  Bartholomew  and  the  martyrs  of  Smithfield  were 
hewn  and  burned  by  the  strength  of  it;  and  from  its 
armoury  the  Inquisition  drew  its  deadliest  weapons."1 

Was  the  pity  in  any  true  way  Christian  or  religious? 
Not  once  in  the  New  Testament  is  such  a  feeling  encour- 
aged !  It  is  surely  irreverent ;  it  is  surely  wasted ;  it  is 
surely  infructuous  except  of  bitter,  distorted  fruit. 

I  open  a  recent  book  of  devotion,  and  there  I  read, 
"  Keep  a  crucifix  and  adore  every  day  the  five  precious 
wounds.  Let  your  kisses  and  your  prayers  be  like  pearls 
and  precious  stones,  which  you  never  tire  of  setting  in 
each  of  the  five  wounds  of  the  Saviour."  Now  I  do  not 
doubt  the  piety  of  the  writer,  but  to  say  nothing  of  the 
doubt  whether  there  were  five  wounds,  —  for  the  feet  were 
often  tied,  not  nailed  to  the  cross,  —  I  cannot  imagine  any- 
thing less  like  the  conceptions  of  primitive  Christianity 

1  The  English  Illustrated  Mar/mine. 


398  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

than  a  form  of  worship  so  morbid,  so  unnatural,  so 
idolatrous,  so  meaninglessly  distressful,  as  constantly  kiss- 
ing a  piece  of  wood  with  five  wounds  painted  on  it.  I 
think  that  St.  Paul  would  have  swept  aside,  very  roughly 
and  very  indignantly,  so  gross  and  material  an  innovation. 
He  would  have  ranked  it  with  the  e6e\o7reptcr<Todpr)a-K€La, 
or  voluntary  will-worship  which  he  so  strongly  condemns. 
And  this  at  least  is  certain,  that  nothing  remotely  resem- 
bling such  service  is  even  distantly  hinted  at  by  Jesus 
Himself,  or  by  any  Apostle  or  Evangelist ;  nor  was  known 
for  a  thousand  years  to  the  Church  of  Christ.  Nor  are  we 
at  all  encouraged  by  the  temper  of  mind,  or  tone  of 
religion,  which  synchronized  with  the  adoration  of  this 
symbol  of  agony  thus  so  exclusively  identified  with  Him 
of  whose  glad  birth  the  angels  sang.  How  little  did  it 
resemble  the  habitual  conception  of  the  early  Christians, 
to  whom  their  Lord  was  a  presence  of  eternal  victory  and 
never-ending  joy !  The  vision  which  St.  John  saw  of 
Christ  in  the  Apocalypse  was  no  agonized,  blood-smeared 
figure,  such  as  you  see  depicted  just  where  the  population 
is  most  hopeless  and  most  degraded,  at  every  turn  of  the 
sweet  valleys  in  the  Romish  cantons  of  Switzerland ;  no, 
but  with  His  eyes  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  His  feet  glowing 
as  in  a  furnace,  and  round  His  loins  a  golden  girdle,  and 
the  rainbow  shedding  its  seven-fold  lustre  over  the  seven 
planets  of  His  crown!  Even  when  St.  John  saw  in  the 
midst  of  the  throne  a  lamb  as  it  had  been  slain,  it  was 
still  a  lamb  triumphant  and  victorious.  And  so,  to  the 
Apostles  and  the  early  Christians,  even  the  cross  was 
always  an  emblem,  not  of  frustration,  but  of  exultation ; 
not  of  morbid  anguish,  but  of  transfigured  sorrow;  not 
primarily  of  pain  and  death,  but  of  pain  and  death  as  the 
path  to  unending  bliss,  and  the  secret  of  eternal  life.  To 
the  early  Christians  —  and  the  difference  in  result  is  in- 
finite —  the  aspect  in  which  "  the  Lord  of  life  and  all  the 
worlds"  was  regarded,  was  not  that  of  a  dying  sufferer, 
but  that  of  "  the  Incarnate  Word,  the  Present  Friend,  the 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  399 

Prince  of  Peace  on  earth,  the  Everlasting  King  in  heaven." 
"  What  His  life  is,  what  His  commandments  are,  what 
His  judgment  will  be,"  these  were  the  things  to  which  they 
turned  their  thoughts ;  "  not  mainly  what  He  once  did,  or 
what  He  once  suffered,  but  what  He  is  doing  now,  and 
what  He  requires  us  to  do ; "  and,  as  Mr.  Ruskiii  has  said, 
"  the  fall  from  that  faith,  and  all  the  corruptions  of  its 
abortive  practice,  may  be  summed  up  briefly  as  the 
habitual  contemplation  of  Christ's  death,  instead  of  His 
life,  and  the  substitution  of  His  past  sufferings  for  our 
present  duty." 

And  yet,  even  then,  it  was  very  long  before  Christian 
Art  had  so  completely  plunged  into  unreserve  as  to  paint 
the  dead  Christ,  —  to  paint  as  a  corpse  Him  who  is  alive 
at  God's  right  hand  forevermore.  To  paint  the  sacrifice 
of  Isaac  was  as  far  as  they  dared  to  go.  In  some  of  the 
Catacomb-frescoes,  a  sheep  receives  the  law,  strikes  the 
rock,  raises  Lazarus,  multiplies  the  loaves.  And  thus, 
even  when,  in  the  fourth  century,  Christians  wished  to 
indicate  the  fact  of  the  crucifixion,  it  is  with  distant  and 
deeply  reverent  symbols.  A  lamb  is  depicted  with  a  cross 
upon  its  head ;  or  there  stands  upon  a  mound  a  cross, 
wreathed  with  flowers,  or  thick  with  jewels,  with  the 
monogram  of  Christ  above,  and  by  it  stands  a  lamb,  and 
doves  are  on  the  arms  of  it,  and  from  the  mound  flow 
the  four  rivers  of  Paradise.  How  very  far  is  such  an 
emblem  of  peace  and  loveliness  from  the  one-sided  ghastli- 
ness  of  a  realistic  picture !  It  does  not  even  attempt  or 
dare  to  give  an  objective  presentment  of  the  scene,  but 
conveys,  with  joyous  gratitude  and  revering  exultation,  a 
suggestion  of  the  idea. 

"  Even  the  sufferings  of  Christ,"  says  Lord  Lindsay, 
"  are  alluded  to  merely  by  the  cross  borne  lightly  in  the 
hand  as  a  sceptre  of  power  rather  than  a  rod  of  affliction ; 
the  agony,  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  nail,  the  spear,  seem  all 
forgotten  in  the  fulness  of  joy  brought  by  His  resurrec- 
tion. This  is  the  scene  on  which  the  artists  of  the  Church 


400  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

seem  never  weary  of  expatiating  —  Death  swallowed  up 
in  victory,  and  the  victor  crowned  with  the  amaranth 
of  immortality.  We  who  have  been  born  to  this  belief 
can  but  feebly  realize  the  vividness  with  which  it  was  held 
by  the  Antenicene  Church,  and  nowhere  does  it  shine 
with  so  pure  a  lustre  as  in  the  Catacombs."  It  may  be 
regarded  as  certain  that  there  is  not  the  least  trace  of  any 
crucifix  for  the  first  500  years  after  Christ.  The  worth- 
lessness  of  Garrucci's  supposed  examples  has  been  con- 
clusively shewn  by  Augusti  and  by  Dr.  Messner. 

In  the  sixth  century  we  have  the  cross,  but  not  the 
Crucified.  In  this  century  Gregory  of  Tours  does  indeed 
mention  a  crucifix  at  Narbonne,  but  only  as  an  innovation  ; 
and  in  the  story  he  tells,  Christ  in  a  vision,  severely  re- 
proves the  custom  of  representing  Him  undraped  on  the 
cross.  In  the  seventh  century  the  Lombard  Queen  Theo- 
dolind  wrote  to  ask  Gregory  the  Great  (A.D.  604)  for 
some  relic  of  a  martyr.  He  did  not  approve  of  this, 
but  sent  her  oil  from  lamps  in  the  Catacombs  which 
burned  before  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs.  On  one  of  the 
gilt  glasses  is  the  earliest  distant  approach  to  a  crucifixion ; 
—  and  how  deeply  significant  it  is !  Below  is  the  tomb, 
with  an  angel  on  one  side,  and,  on  the  other,  a  woman 
with  a  censer,  and  a  man.  Above  we  see  the  two  robbers 
on  their  crosses ;  between  them  is  —  not  a  representation 
of  the  Crucifixion,  but  a  green,  blooming  cross,  on  either 
side  of  which  a  little  angel  kneels,  and  over  it,  in  a  nimbus, 
between  the  sun  and  the  moon,  the  head  of  Christ ;  on  one 
side  stands  the  Magdalene,  and  on  the  other  St.  Peter. 
This  flask  is  preserved  at  Monza,  and  Muratori  may  well 
call  it,  "  cosa  troppo  rara  e  quasi  miracurosa."  It  forcibly 
illustrates  the  reverent  dread  of  representing  Christ  on 
the  cross,  which  prevailed  even  in  the  seventh  century.1 
The  same  Pope,  Gregory  the  Great,  sent  to  Theodolind  on 
the  birth  of  her  son  Adulowald,  "a  phylactery,"  in  the 

1  Stockbauer,  Kunstgesch  d.  Kreuzes,  145.  The  picture  is  given  by 
Didron,  Ann.  Arch.,  xxvi.,  1869. 


THE   SUFFERING   CHRIST.  401 

form  of  a  cross,  which  professed  to  contain  a  fragment  of 
the  true  cross.  It  still  exists  in  the  Church  of  St.  John  at 
Monza,  and  on  it  is  painted  a  crucified  Christ,  which 
is,  however,  of  Greek,  and  not  of  Western  workmanship. 
It  represents  the  Saviour  in  a  long  robe,  and  standing  on 
the  footstool  of  the  cross  in  an  attitude  of  perfect 
majesty,  living,  and  with  open  eyes.1  In  the  tenth 
century  there  are  some  crucifixes,  but  the  Crucified  is 
represented  in  long  robes,  majestic  and  beneficent.  The 
idea  was  always  that  of  Christ  reigning  from  the  tree,2 
according  to  the  old  reading  of  the  Psalm  —  regnavit  e 
ligno. 

In  the  four  following  centuries  the  robe  is  gradually 
stripped  off,  and  the  physical  agony  unscripturally  empha- 
sized. 

The  earliest  known  painting  of  the  Crucifixion  is  that 
by  Rabbula  (A.D.  586).  He  was  a  monk  of  the  convent 
Zagba,  in  Mesopotamia,  and  his  picture  is  an  illustrated 
manuscript  of  the  Gospels,  now  in  the  Library  at  Flor- 
ence. At  this  time  small  pictures  of  the  subject  began  to 
be  brought  from  the  East  into  the  West.3 

Not  till  the  eighth  century  is  Christ  represented  on  the 
cross  to  the  public  eye ;  but  even  then  it  is  a  Christ  free, 
a  supreme  sovereign,  with  eyes  open,  with  arms  unbound ; 
living,  not  dead;  majestic,  not  abject;  with  no  horror  of 
great  darkness  overhanging  Him,  with  no  mortal  agony 
on  His  divine,  eternal  features.  In  the  earlier  centuries 
the  transient  anguish  was  never  contemplated,  save  as  the 

1  It  is  given  by  Didron,  Ann.  Arch.,  xxvi.,  1869  ;  and  by  Stockbauer,  p. 
160.     The  use  of  crosses  as   tyicbXiria.,  amulets  worn  on  the  breast,  is 
older.    Gregory  of  Nyssa  mentions  that  his  sister,  Macrina,  wore  one. 

2  Psalm  xcvi.  10,  LXX. ;  Justin  Martyr,  Dial.  c.  Tryph.  73 ;  Didron, 
pp.  264-266. 

3  Raoul  Rochette,  Discours,  p.  60 ;  see,  too,  Crowe  and  Cavacaselle, 
c.  i.  61.     Mr.  Hemans  (Ancient  Christianity  and  Mediaeval  Art,  532)  says 
that  the  earliest  instance  of  a  Dead  Christ  on  the  cross  is  in  a  manu- 
script of  1059.     The  picture  by  Rabulas  is  given  by  Stockbauer,  p.  165, 
who  gives  others  also  ;  see,  too,  Rumohr,  Ital.  Forsch.,  I.  304  ;  Augusti, 
Beitriige,  I.  62. 

DD 


402  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

condition  of  unending  and  unimaginable  joys ;  nor  were 
men  ever  reminded  of  the  brief  Death  without  being  at 
the  same  time  reminded  that,  swallowed  up  in  instant 
victory,  the  brief  Death  was  but  transition  to  an  infinite 
triumph  and  an  immeasurable  life. 

But,  in  the  tenth  century,  in  ages  of  deepening  super- 
stition and  ignorance,  there  set  in  the  full  flood  of  realistic 
art.  Then  first  did  Christians  venture  to  represent  Christ 
dead,  and  splashed  with  blood,  and  "  the  last  glimpse  of 
divine  Majesty  suffered  total  eclipse  from  the  exclusive 
display  of  agonized  Humanity."  But  not  till  the  eleventh 
century  was  there  a  bas-relief,  and  not  perhaps  till  the 
fourteenth  centur}'-  was  there  a  portable  crucifix.  And  by 
this  time  there  had  begun  a  deep  corruption,  and  a  disastrous 
displacement  of  the  true  centre  of  gravity  of  our  faith. 
Pictures  of  the  Crucifixion  could  in  some  crude  way  "set 
forth  the  external  fact ;  they  could  not  infuse  into  it  that 
inexhaustible  depth  of  the  divine  meaning  which  might 
be  dimly  shadowed  by  a  symbol.  In  trying  to  represent 
what  the  Apostles  actually  saw,  we  may  wholly  lose  sight 
of  what  they  felt.  Thoughts  which  are  foreign  to  the 
Gospel  were  not  only  perpetuated,  but  exclusively  ob- 
truded; and  in  the  physical  image  of  the  dead  Christ, 
which  is  entirely  foreign  to  Scripture,  men  more  and 
more  lost  sight  of  His  true  ideal,  of  the  significance  of 
His  example,  of  the  real  meaning  of  His  Gospel,  of  His 
present  exaltation,  of  His  living  spirit,  of  His  joyous, 
pervading,  dilating,  radiant,  loving,  eternal  Exaltation. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  these  thoughts  are  merely 
antiquarian,  or  that  the  influence  of  Art  on  religion  is  un- 
important. Art  may  have  its  degradation  in  the  direction 
of  an  all  but  blasphemous  irreverence ;  hardly  less  is  its 
influence  in  the  direction  of  a  horrifying  superstition. 
The  world  and  the  Church  got  farther  and  farther  from 
the  conception  of  the  purely  ideal  image  of  the  Saviour 
as  a  beautiful  youth,  calm  and  gentle,  typical  of  the 
rejuvenescence  of  mankind  in  Him.  This  emblem  gave 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  403 

way  to  the  grim  image  of  the  Saviour  as  a  dismal,  macer- 
ated monk.  "  Light,"  as  Dean  Milman  says,  "  vanished 
from  His  brow,  gentleness  from  His  features,  serene 
majesty  from  His  attitude.  The  image  of  the  Lord  on 
the  cross  —  which  at  first,  even  if  it  represented  pain,  was 
yet  pain  overcome  by  patience — was  no  longer  clothed 
with  long  drapery,  but  stripped  to  ghastly  nakedness.  It 
became  the  object  of  the  artist  to  wring  the  spectator's 
heart  with  fear  and  anguish,  rather  than  to  chasten  with 
quiet  sorrow  or  elevate  with  faith  and  hope;  to  aggravate 
the  sin  of  man,  rather  than  display  the  mercy  of  God. 
Then  at  last,  with  convulsed  limbs  and  vivid  pain,  and 
red,  streaming  blood,  that  most  terrible  object,  the 
painted  crucifix,  was  offered  to  the  groaning  worship  of 
mankind."  And  when  the  joy  and  peace  and  hope  of 
religion  were  thus  drowned  in  seas  of  agony,  when  sin, 
and  not  God,  was  made  the  central  thought  of  religion, 
floods  of  crime  and  degradation  followed.  What  inquisi- 
tions and  slaughter !  What  racks  and  thumbscrews  and 
gibbets  and  implements  of  horrible  cruelty  were  plied  in 
the  desecrated  name  of  truth !  What  narrowness  of 
belief  and  callousness  of  feeling,  and  mercilessness  of 
precept  and  severity  of  judgment,  and  dark,  dishonour- 
ing thoughts  of  God  I  For  the  Divine  words,  "  Ye  shall 
know  them  by  their  fruits,"  were  substituted  the  false 
words,  "  Ye  shall  know  them  by  their  doctrines"  Men 
and  nations  bowed  their  necks  under  the  hideous  tyranny 
and  ruthless  usurpation  of  inquisitors  and  priests.  The 
pages  of  the  history  of  a  corrupt  and  persecuting  Church 
were  glued  together  with  the  blood  of  martyrdom.  Christ, 
from  the  meek  and  lowly  Saviour  of  all  the  world,  be- 
came, in  the  fresco  of  Michael  Angelo,  a  furious  Hercules 
turning  away  from  the  pleading  compassion  of  His  human 
mother,  to  hurl  and  drive  the  miserable  generations  of 
the  lost,  as  in  a  storm  of  agonizing  raindrops,  by  number- 
less myriads,  into  the  abyss  of  flame  ;  or  in  the  yet  deeper 
degradation  of  the  sensuous  Rubens,  He  only  is  moved  to 


404  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IN   ART. 

a  little  pity  by  the  prayer  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi ;  or  in 
the  lowest  abyss  of  a  travestied  Christianity,  He  looks 
down  from  His  cross  into  the  seven-times  heated  furnace 
of  a  flaring  hell,  full  of  horned  demons,  who  boil  the  dead 
in  cauldrons,  or  tear  them  to  pieces  with  red-hot  pincers 
—  as  though  the  dominant  conception  of  all  life,  of  all 
worship,  of  all  religion  were,  for  the  vast  majority  of  man- 
kind, the  absolute  triumph  of  a  ghastly  fiendishness,  and  a 
horror,  hopeless,  endless,  all  but  universal,  which  tongue 
can  neither  conceive  nor  name  ! 

Not  such  in  their  exaltation,  not  such  in  their  simplicity, 
were  the  conceptions  of  the  primitive  Christians.  They 
exulted  not  in  horror,  but  in  bliss ;  not  in  vengeance,  but 
in  compassion.  Their  key-note  was  "fear  not";  their 
recurrent  burden  was  the  Christmas  carol,  the  angels' 
song,  "Peace  on  earth,  good  will  towards  men."  That 
was  their  view  of  the  Gospel ;  and  to  them  there  was  not 
terror  and  serfdom  and  despair,  but  hope  and  joy  and 
peace  in  believing. 

So  far  as  we  look  beyond  this  world  to  a  better ;  so  far 
as  we  prefer  poverty  and  persecution  to  the  temptations  of 
guilty  pleasure  and  guilty  wealth ;  so  far  as  we  are  kind 
to  one  another,  tender-hearted  as  members  of  one  great 
brotherhood  in  Christ ;  so  far  as  we  realize  the  sacredness 
of  our  mortal  bodies  and  the  pricelessness  of  our  immortal 
souls  ;  so  far  as  the  dove  of  innocence,  and  the  hart  panting 
after  the  water-brooks,  and  the  harp  of  joy,  and  the  vine  of 
life  are  our  symbols ;  so  far  as  Christ  is  to  us  above  all 
things  "  the  Shepherd,"  and  we  are  the  people  of  Christ's 
pasture  and  the  sheep  of  His  hand ;  so  far  as  Christ  is  to 
us  a  living  Christ,  arid  not  a  dead  Christ ;  a  universal 
Christ,  not  a  sectarian  Christ ;  a  Christ  who  cares  not  for 
elaborate  will-worship,  or  anathematizing  creeds,  or  bur- 
densome observances,  but  for  simplicity  and  sincerity  of 
heart ;  a  Christ  of  love,  not  of  fury,  vengeance,  and 
hatred ;  a  Christ  of  liberty,  not  of  bondage ;  a  Christ  who 
does  not  hedge  Himself  in  from  free  access  by  the  tyranny 


THE   SUFFERING  CHRIST.  405 

of  usurping  and  erring  priests,  but  cries  "  Come  unto  me 
all  ye  that  are  heavy  laden;"  —  so  far  are  we  like  those 
early  Christians  whose  bodies  rest  in  the  Catacombs,  and 
so  far  we  shall  not  have  looked  in  vain  to  the  rock  whence 
we  were  hewn,  and  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  we  were 
digged. 

While,  therefore,  I  speak  of  the  treatment  of  the  suffer- 
ing Christ  and  of  the  Dead  Christ  in  Art,  and  while  I  do 
not  refuse  sympathy  with  all  that  was  pure  or  reverent 
in  the  tendency  to  represent  Him  thus,  I  still  retain  the 
views  which  I  have  here  expressed.  The  test,  "  By  their 
fruits  ye  shall  know  them,"  is  as  true  of  doctrines  as 
of  men.  The  exclusive  and  irreverent  obtrusion  of  the 
physical  sufferings  of  Christ  has  been  prolific  of  errors 
and  heresies.  "  Under  the  veil  of  a  sweet  but  facile 
devotion,  but  one  most  false  and  erroneous"  (to  quote  the 
words  of  Bishop  de  Ricci),  "it  hides  many  perils."  We 
have  seen  the  effects  it  has  produced  in  one  direction  on 
the  minds  of  brutally  ferocious  religionists,  in  the  other, 
on  the  lives  of  dazed  dreamers.  It  is  also  responsible  for 
the  heretical  exaggerations  of  hysteric  nuns  and  self- 
deluded  quietists.  It  has  led  to  the  crude  materialism 
of  cardiolatry  —  the  "Devotion  of  the  Sacred  Heart" 
developed  out  of  the  phantasies  of  a  dreaming  devotee. 
To  it  have  been  due  the  nightmares  of  visionaries  and 
the  delusions  of  stigmatics  and  convulsionaires.  To  it 
have  been  due  such  monstrosities  of  materialism  as  the 
so-called  Vision  of  Bolsena  and  the  bleeding  wafers  of 
ecclesiastical  miracle.  We  read  of  at  least  two  appear- 
ances of  the  Ascended  Christ  in  the  New  Testament,  but 
never  of  His  appearance  as  a  sufferer.  He  appeared  in 
glory  to  St.  Paul  the  Persecutor,  in  glory  to  St.  Stephen 
the  Martyr.  The  doctrine  of  His  "  continuous  suffering  " 
in  heaven  has  risen  only  from  the  mistranslation  of  rhetoric 
into  logic,  of  the  syllogisms  of  emotion  into  the  syllogism 
of  reality.  Christ  is  not  suffering  now,  nor  to  be  wept  for 
now.  "  On  earth,"  says  St.  Bernard,  "  He  truly  wept,  was 


406  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

truly  sorrowful,  truly  suffered,  truly  died,  was  truly  buried. 
But  now  that  He  has  risen  again,  old  things  are  passed 
away.  Seek  not  thy  Beloved  on  His  bed  ;  He  is  not  here, 
He  is  risen.  He  is  no  longer  among  the  dead.  Changed 
in  body,  changed  'in  heart,  He  hath  entered  into  the 
Majesty  of  the  Lord."  1 

1  Bernard,    Serm.   xxxiv.,    De   verbis    Origenis.    See    some  excellent 
remarks  by  Canon  Jenkins.     The  Devotion  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  p.  20. 


III. 

THE  CRUCIFIXION  IN  ART. 

"  Veggio  in  croce  il  Signer  nudo  e  disteso 
Coi  piedi,  e  rnaii  chiodate ;  e  '1  destro  lato 
Aperto,  e  '1  capo  sol  di  spine  ornato ; 
E  da  vil  gente  d'  ogui  parte  offezo." 

—  VlTTOKIA    COLONXA. 

WE  have  already  seen  something  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  Crucifixion  was  treated  in  the  earlier  days,  and  by  the 
thirteenth  and  fourteenth  century  painters.  We  may, 
however,  revert  for  a  moment  to  the  aspect  in  which  the 
scene  was  viewed  by  Fra  Angelico. 

In  Angelico's  pictures  of  the  Crucifixion,  we  note  at 
once  several  peculiarities.  In  the  first  place,  they  speak 
of  that  deep,  intense  feeling  which  we  should  expect  in 
one  who  painted  that  awful  scene,  not  with  the  pride 
of  vain  science,  not  in  the  fuss  and  fret  of  violent  worldly 
competition,  but  on  his  knees,  and  with  streaming  tears, 
and  in  the  dim,  quiet,  humble  monastic  cell.  Next  we 
notice  the  reverence  and  the  good  taste  which  shrank  from 
the  attempt  at  muscular  anatomic  nudities,  as  much  as 
from  the  ignorant  and  ghastly  profusion  of  blood.  His 
object  was  not  to  exhibit  the  Crucifixion  as  a  scene  of 
torture  on  which  men  were  to  gaze  with  gloating  and 
morbid  curiosity,  but  only  as  illustrative  of  the  Divine 
and  willing  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  Man,  in  His  humility 
and  compassion.  He  does  not,  therefore,  force  on  us  the 
brief  triumph  of  death,  or  expend  himself  in  glorifying  the 
hour  and  power  of  darkness,  but  invites  us  to  contemplate 
a  blessed  mystery  of  love. 

407 


408  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

And  for  this,  among  other  reasons,  there  are  no  rolling 
clouds,  or  horrors  of  great  darkness  in  his  pictures,  but 
the  sky  is  bright,  and  the  earth  is  green  and  soft,  and  the 
hills  sleep  in  the  sunlight,  as  though  in  prophecy  that  the 
short  spasm  of  anguish  was  the  birth-throe  of  an  eternal 
blessedness ;  all  evil  is  as  much  as  possible  excluded,  as 
though  it  were  not.  "  More  readily  he  paints  a  sweet  and 
pearly  dawn,  as  in  the  extraordinary  mystic  landscape 
which  accompanies  the  small  mystic  Pieta  at  Munich, 
where  the  gentle  saint  of  a  painter  could  not  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  make  the  rock  of  the  tomb  where  Christ's  fair 
body  was  to  lie  other  than  snow-white." 1 

Perugino  also  places  his  Crucifixion  amid  the  smiling 
peace  and  tender  softness  of  lovely  scenery.  The  land- 
scape is  usually  one  under  the  solemn  hush  of  evening, 
where  silvery  rivers, 

"  soft  and  slow, 
Amid  the  verdant  landscape  flow." 

The  reason  of  this  was,  that  the  souls  of  these  painters, 
filled  with  pathos  and  devotion,  thought  of  the  Cruci- 
fixion not  so  much  as  a  scene  of  frightful  agony  and 
tremendous  expiation,  but  as  an  object  of  humble  and 
grateful  contemplation.  Their  thoughts  resembled  that 
of  Keble:- 

"  Is  it  not  strange,  the  darkest  hour 

That  ever  dawned  on  sinful  earth 
Should  touch  the  heart  with  softer  power 

For  comfort  than  an  angel's  mirth  ?  " 

Francia  is  another  of  these  children  of  the  light  whose 
true  piety  saved  him  from  the  errors  of  less  holy  and 
heaven-illuminated  artists. 

And  this  view  was  infinitely  more  scriptural  than  that 
of  those  later  painters  whose  sole  object  it  was  to  lacerate 
our  souls  with  images  of  pain. 

1  Gilbert,  p.  186.  We  may  remark  in  passing,  that  Ambrose,  in  Lite. 
x.,  Hesych,  Horn,  de  S.  Andrea,  and  others,  err  in  representing  Jesus  as 
entirely  stripped.  By  Jewish  custom  the  lumbaria  were  always  left. 


THE   CRUCIFIXION   IN   ART.  409 

There  are  Crucifixions  in  our  National  Gallery  by 
Andrea  del  Castagno  (No.  1138),  solemn  in  its  gloom, 
but  coarsely  realistic ;  by  Antonello  da  Messina  (A.D. 
1487)  ;  and  by  an  unknown  Westphalian  master  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  full  of  the  ghastliness  for  the  sake  of 
which  the  scene  was  painted.  Far  different  is  Bellini's 
Blood  of  the  Redeemer  (No.  1233).  It  is  not  a  crucifixion, 
but  the  Risen  Christ  stands  undraped,  grasping  His  cross, 
on  which  hangs  the  crown  of  thorns.  Of  this  picture  I 
have  already  spoken.  It  represents  the  Risen  Saviour  in 
the  type  of  the  Eternal  Sacrifice. 

A  kind  of  sovereign  rightness  of  instinct  seems  to  have 
preserved  Raphael  from  ever  painting  the  Crucifixion  in 
the  maturity  of  his  powers.  His  one  treatment  of  the 
subject  was  the  work  of  his  youth.  It  was  painted  when 
he  was  but  eighteen  years  old,  and  is  little  more  than  a 
gentle  reflexion  of  the  current  method  of  representation. 

There  was,  no  doubt,  a  deep  difference  in  the  general 
tone  of  feeling  between  the  Italian  and  the  German 
painters.  Three  painters  of  the  Renaissance  —  Leonardo, 
Raphael,  and  Albrecht  Diirer  —  endeavoured  to  work  out 
an  ideal  representation  of  Christ.1  The  ideal  of  Leonardo, 
in  his  Last  Supper,  expressed  the  concentrated  feeling  of 
one  moment  when  the  anguish  of  the  betrayal  overpowered 
every  other  feeling.  That  of  Raphael,  in  Lo  Spasimo  di 
Sicilies,  is  greatly  influenced  by  that  of  Diirer,  from  whom 
the  attitude  is  borrowed.  In  general,  Raphael,  in  accord- 
ance with  his  natural  character,  represents  Christ  at  rest- 
ful moments  or  in  death.  His  whole  tendency  was  to  the 
ideal  of  peace,  softness,  and  beauty.  A  glance  at  the 
portraits  of  Raphael  and  Diirer  will  show  how  impossible 
it  would  have  been  for  either  to  have  produced  so  much 
as  one  of  the  pictures  of  the  other.  Their  religious  feel- 
ings were  too  widely  different.  To  the  Italian,  sin  was 
more  or  less  "a  soft  and  venial  infirmity  of  the  blood," 
while  the  German  master  realized  it  with  Teutonic  in- 

1  See  A.  Springer  in  Dohine,  II.  275. 


410  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

tensity.  Consequently,  in  Diirer's  often-repeated  ideal 
of  the  Christ,  which  he  reproduced  on  copper,  anguish  is 
predominant  as  of  Him  who  bare  our  sins.  This,  too, 
is  the  characteristic  of  the  Christs  of  Holbein.  It  was  in 
the  delineation  of  His  agony  and  bloody  sweat,  His  cross 
and  passion,  that  the  German  painters  put  forth  their  best 
strength. 

Yet,  for  mere  power,  and  a  somewhat  repellent  pathos, 
no  painter  ever  exceeded  Michael  Angelo's  rendering  of 
this  subject.  It  is  not  a  finished  picture,  but  a  sketch  now 
in  the  Taylor  Museum  at  Oxford.  The  same  thought 
spake  throughout  it  as  that  which  is  expressed  by  Dante's 

line :  — 

"  Non  vi  si  pensa  quanto  sangue  costa," 

written  by  Michael  Angelo  under  the  Pieta.  which  (as 
well  as  this  Crucifixion)  he  designed  at  the  request  of 
Vittoria  Colonna.  When  she  received  it,  she  wrote  back 
to  say  that  "nothing  could  be  more  living  or  more  perfect ; 
she  has  looked  at  it  in  the  light  and  under  a  magnifying 
glass,  and  in  a  mirror,  and  is  at  a  loss  to  express  its  wonder- 
ful fineness." 1  Michael  Angelo  often  designed  the  Dead 
and  the  Suffering  Christ,  but  this  seems  to  be  his  only 
Crucifixion.2  Much  of  the  weight  of  the  body  appears  to 
rest  upon  the  arms.  The  head 'leans  towards  the  left 
shoulder.  The  Saviour  is  in  the  agony  of  death.  The 
powerful  figure  is  almost  wholly  nude,  and  one  leg  is  con- 
vulsively drawn  up  as  though  from  anguish.  The  open 
mouth  expresses  indescribable  suffering,  as  if  it  had  just 
uttered  the  Eli,  Eli  lama  sabachthani.  The  uplifted  eyes, 
of  which  the  white  is  chiefly  visible,  are  beginning  to  close, 
and  the  noble  type  of  the  features  is  defaced  by  pain. 
The  type  here  presented  made  so  powerful  an  impression 
on  the  mind  of  that  age  that  it  became  the  motive  for 
unnumbered  Crucifixes. 

1  "Non  si  pu6  cedere,"  she  wrote,  "piu  ben  fatta,  piu  viva,  c  piu 
flnita  imagine." 

2  A  sketch  of  it  is  published  in  Dohine,  II.  451. 


THE   CRUCIFIXION  IX   ART.  411 

The  rest  of  the  picture  is  simple.  There  are  no  thieves, 
no  spectators.  Only  the  cross  stands  on  a  bare  round  of 
hill  top,  with  the  traditional  skull  lying,  with  a  ghastli- 
ness  quite  Michaelangelesque,  at  the  foot  of  it.1  Only  in 
the  clouds  on  either  side  of  the  cross  are  two  angels 
greatly  foreshortened  and  intensely  dramatic.  The  one 
on  the  left,  leaning  with  both  arms  upon  the  clouds,  rests 
on  his  two  hands  the  cheeks  which  seem  to  stream  with 
tears  as  he  looks  upwards  at  the  sufferer.  The  one  on  the 
right,  supporting  his  head  on  his  right  hand,  has  turned 
away  from  the  dreadful  sacrifice  at  which  he  points  with 
his  left.  Michael  Angelo  never  disdained  to  borrow  from 
others  —  for  instance,  from  Orcagna  and  Signorelli  —  a 
powerful  conception.  In  the  position  of  the  two  angels 
he  has  followed  Giotto,  but  has  breathed  into  the  motive  a 
power  and  a  passion  far  beyond  the  reach  of  the  earlier 
masters  of  the  Renaissance,  with  their  simple  art  and 
more  untroubled  souls.  How  unlike  are  these  angels  to 
the  smooth,  sweet,  graceful  youths  of  Perugino,  or  the 
Amorini  of  the  Decadence !  Their  souls,  too,  are  swayed 
by  the  sorrows  and  passions  of  the  human  race !  The 
picture  is  stamped  with  the  intensity  in  which  Michael 
Angelo  exceeds  all  other  painters.  Conventionality  and 
tradition  are  utterly  thrown  aside,  and  the  throbbing  heart 
expresses  all  its  woe. 

Luini's  Crucifixion  at  Lugano  is  rightly  regarded  as  the 
finest  picture  in  Northern  Italy.  To  see  this  grand  picture, 
and  appreciate  it  rightly,  one  should  see  it  again  and  yet 
again.  The  Church  of  Sta  Maria  degli  Angioli  stands, 
with  its  door  invitingly  open,  close  by  the  old  monastery 
which  is  now  the  Hotel  du  Pare.  The  great  fresco  covers 
the  wall  which  separates  the  choir  from  the  rest  of  the 
church.  It  is  dated  1526,  and  is  wonderfully  fresh  and 

1  It  was  supposed  to  be  the  skull  of  Adam,  and  tradition  referred 
to  it  the  lines  of  the  ancient  hymn  (?)  quoted  by  St.  Paul,  "  Awake, 
Adam  that  sleepest,"  etc.  See  Theophylact,  Epiphanius,  and  Jerome. — 
STOCKBAUER,  p.  58. 


412  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

bright,  in  spite  of  the  three  centuries  and  a  half  which 
have  passed  away  since  the  "  golden  hand  "  which  painted 
it  has  crumbled  into  dust.  What  it  must  have  looked 
like  —  how  truly  enchanting  —  when  all  its  colours  were 
fresh  and  bright,  we  can  but  imagine.  Multitudes  of 
visitors  to  Lugano  enter  the  church  and  are  content  with 
a  hasty  glance  at  what  looks  to  them  like  a  mass  of  con- 
fused details ;  but  when  we  gaze  long  enough  to  see  that 
this  fresco  is  an  epitome  of  all  the  last  scenes  of  the  Gospel 
history,  we  repudiate  the  charge  that  Luini  was  deficient 
in  powers  of  composition.  We  will  say  nothing  of  the 
two  noble  and  pathetic  figures  of  St.  Sebastian  and  St. 
Roch,  or  of  the  six  prophets  below  the  actual  picture ; 
nor  will  we  do  more  than  mention  the  separate  scenes,  of 
the  Entombment  and  the  Resurrection  on  the  right,  the 
Agony  in  the  Garden  and  the  Mockery  on  the  left,  or  the 
Spasimo  and  the  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas.  These  are 
separate  pictures  of  extreme  beauty,  but  only  belong  inci- 
dentally to  the  central  subject. 

The  crosses  are  of  extreme  height  —  and  this  is  com- 
mon in  Italian  pictures,  though  it  is  certain  that  in  reality 
they  were  but  little  elevated  above  the  ground.  The 
penitent  robber,  in  dying,  has  turned  his  head  towards 
Christ;  the  impenitent  robber  has  turned  his  head  away. 
One  leg  of  both  of  them  hangs  loose,  and  is  supposed  to 
have  been  broken.  Over  Dysmas,  the  penitent,  is  an  angel 
presenting  to  God  his  white  and  kneeling  soul ;  over  the 
head  of  the  other  a  bestial  and  somewhat  grotesque  demon 
has  crawled  to  grip  his  soul,  which  is  represented  as  that 
of  a  swarthy  man.  On  the  right  is  a  grand  centurion  on 
horseback,  said  to  be  a  portrait  of  the  painter  himself. 
On  the  other  side  is  Longinus  with  his  spear,  his  hand  on 
his  cheek.  A  group  of  four  soldiers  have  been  playing 
at  dice  upon  a  shield,  and  are  now  contending  for  the 
seamless  robe.  The  face  of  the  one  on  the  left  is  the 
only  bad  and  abnormal  face  among  all  these  multitudinous 
figures,  and  it  is  interesting  to  notice  that  it  looks  very 


THE   CRUCIFIXION   IX   ART.  413 

like  a  reminiscence  of  one  of  the  grotesque  and  malformed 
faces  among  the  drawings  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  with  its 
monstrously  protruding  lip.  Luini  seems  as  if  he  could 
not  draw  a  bad  man ;  even  the  Judas  in  his  Last  Supper, 
which  is  full  of  obvious  reminiscences  of  Leonardo,  is 
neither  base  nor  ignoble.  On  the  other  side  of  the  cross 
the  Virgin  is  swooning  in  the  arms  of  the  Holy  Women. 
To  the  right  of  the  cross  stands  a  supremely  noble  St. 
John  —  one  hand  on  his  breast,  the  other  outspread  in 
astonished  sorrow.  On  the  other  side  —  her  arms  spread 
out  behind  her  in  an  attitude  of  most  natural  amazement 
—  is  the  Magdalene.  Her  mantle  has  slipped  off  and  her 
long  golden  hair  is  streaming  down  her  shoulders.  There 
are  many  other  figures  full  of  beauty  and  impressiveness, 
and  here  and  there  —  as,  for  instance,  behind  the  group  of 
Rabbis  —  there  is  one  face  full  of  youthful  beauty,  purity, 
and  tenderness. 

But,  after  all,  the  chief  meaning  of  the  whole  is  concen- 
trated in  the  central  cross  and  the  figure  that  hangs  on  it. 
At  the  foot  of  this  cross  is  seated  a  youth  with  golden 
hair,  in  a  simple  tunic  of  blue,  pointing  upwards.  He 
forms  a  sort  of  centre  of  light  to  attract  the  attention  to 
the  uplifted  figure  of  the  Dead  Christ.  This  figure  is  quite 
supreme  in  its  divine  majesty.  Transcendent  and  eternal 
peace  has  absolutely  triumphed  over  anguish  and  over 
death.  I  doubt  whether,  in  the  whole  range  of  Italian  Art, 
any  Dead  Christ  has  ever  been  painted  which,  in  worthy 
conception  of  the  subject,  at  all  approaches  to  this. 

And  to  enhance  the  dignity  of  the  picture,  it  is  sur- 
rounded by  angels.  At  the  summit  a  great  archangel 
leans  downwards ;  on  either  side  of  him  two  others  are 
wringing  their  hands.  Over  the  I.  N.  R.  I.,  above  the 
cross,  are  three  cherubic  heads.  Below  them  float  two 
angels  who  adore  the  Dead  Saviour;  and  below  these 
again  are  two  beautiful  boy-seraphs.  It  is  interesting  to 
notice  that  the  child  chosen  for  the  model  of  the  one  on 
the  right  seems  to  have  been  the  same  child  whom  Luini 


414  THE   LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 

has  depicted  in  the  Infant  Christ  in  the  Madonna  of  the 
Lamb;  and  the  infant  Baptist  of  that  picture  also  reap- 
pears as  the  child  in  the  arms  of  the  woman  on  the  left  of 
this  picture. 

This  Lugano  Crucifixion  is,  in  some  qualities,  one  of  the 
greatest  pictures  in  the  world.  Saronno  and  Lugano  shew 
what  a  painter  full  of  life  and  power  could  do  even  in  the 
terrible  time  after  the  battle  of  Pavia. 

Among  "  Crucifixions  "  by  the  German  School,  we  may 
notice  a  copperplate  engraving  by  Martin  Schongauer 
(f  1488)  — the  "  Buon  Martino  "  of  the  Italians,  a  friend 
of  Perugino.  The  cross  is  lofty,  and  at  its  foot  lie  a  skull 
and  a  bone.  The  figure  of  the  Redeemer  is  (as  is  so  often 
the  case)  represented  as  emaciated.  His  head  is  crowned 
with  a  terrible  crown  of  thorns,  but  the  face  is  beautiful 
and  peaceful  even  in  its  agony.  Under  each  hand,  and 
under  the  wound  in  the  side,  floats  a  fair  angel  with  a 
chalice  to  receive  the  precious  blood.  Another  leans 
round  the  cross  from  behind  to  hold  his  chalice  under  the 
bleeding  feet.  At  the  right  of  the  cross,  in  sweet  and 
majestic  resignation,  stands  the  Virgin,  her  hands  folded 
across  her  breast.  On  the  left,  with  flowing  locks,  hold- 
ing his  Gospel  in  his  hands,  stands  a  singularly  winning 
St.  John,  in  deep  and  painful  meditation.  In  the  distance 
is  Jerusalem.  The  trees  on  the  right  of  the  cross  are  in 
full  leaf ;  one  upon  a  hill  to  the  left  is  ragged,  bare,  and 
ghastly.  The  sides  of  the  hill  shew  the  rents  of  earth- 
quake.1 The  characteristic  of  this  very  striking  picture 
is  its  magnificent  peacefulness,  its  entire  absence  of 
violence  and  exaggeration.  The  tale  is  told  with  the 
power,  the  pathos,  the  simplicity  which  reigns  in  the 
Gospel  narrative  itself,  and  the  meaning  of  the  tragedy 
is  thus  indicated  with  far  superior  depth  than  in  the 
tumultuous  and  distressing  scenes  portrayed  by  many  of 
the  later  Renaissance  painters. 

1  This  is  given  in  Dohme,  Martin  Schongauer,  p.  33 ;  also  in  Wolt- 
mann,  II.  118,  E.  T.. 


THE  CRUCIFIXION. 


From  an  Engraving. 


Schongauer. 


THE   CRUCIFIXION  IN    ART.  415 

There  is  a  Crucifixion  by  Tintoretto  in  the  Scuola  di 
San  Rocco  at  Venice,  painted  in  1565.  It  is  powerful, 
but  the  painter  has  not  sufficiently  grasped  the  grandeur 
of  the  event  to  enable  his  imagination  to  unify  all  the 
separate  details  into  one  impression. 

Christ  has  just  said,  "  I  thirst,"  and  one  of  the  execu- 
tioners has  dipped  the  sponge  in  the  vinegar,  while  the 
other  is  about  to  reach  it  to  Him  on  the  staff  of  hyssop. 
The  figure  of  the  Crucified  is  noble,  and  is  not  degraded 
by  vulgar  horror.  We  have  none  of  those  coarse  muscu- 
lar writhings  and  brutalizing  violences  of  posture  which 
shock  us  in  Rubens.  The  face  is  in  shadow,  the  figure, 
almost  alone  of  all  the  figures,  is  in  perfect  repose. 
"Though  there  yet  remains  a  chasm  of  light  on  the 
mountain's  horizon,  where  the  earthquake  darkness  closes 
upon  the  day,  the  broad  and  sunlike  glory  about  the  head 
of  the  Redeemer  has  become  wan  and  of  the  colour  of 
ashes."  But  the  picture  wholly  lacks  intensity  and  con- 
centration. The  cross,  as  is  usual  in  mediaeval  pictures, 
is  much  too  high.  Our  attention  is  not  absorbingly  at- 
tracted to  the  central  figure.  We  are  lost  in  a  multitude 
of  accessories,  the  rage  of  the  people,  and  the  group  round 
the  fainting  Virgin  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  One  robber  is 
being  nailed  to  his  cross  at  the  left.  The  cross  of  the 
other  is  being  uplifted  on  the  right,  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  a  man  whose  ass  meanwhile  has  begun  to  feed 
on  the  remnants  of  withered  palm-leaves  ! 1  The  drawing, 
the  colouring,  the  separate  details,  are  perfect.  Mr. 
Ruskin  says,  "  I  must  leave  this  picture  to  work  its  will 
on  the  spectator ;  for  it  is  beyond  all  analysis  and  above 
all  praise." 

Yet  another  Crucifixion  by  Tintoret  may  be  mentioned. 
It  is  in  the  Bolognese  Accademia,  and  is  much  injured. 
There  are  but  two  figures  —  Christ  and  the  penitent  thief 
and  the  two  crosses  stand  out  against  the  background  of 

1  This  wonderful  touch  of  imagination  is  pointed  out  in  Stones  of 
Venice,  II.  108. 


416  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

awful  and  stormy  darkness.  The  Christ  has  all  the  mys- 
terious majesty  with  which  He  is  always  represented  by 
this  mighty  master.  The  head  of  the  penitent  is  full  of 
beauty,  power,  and  deep  feeling.  He  has  torn  his  right 
arm  from  its  cords,  and  lifts  it  upward  as  he  gazes  in 
ecstasy  on  Christ. 

It  might  have  been  thought  that  Guido  Reni  was  wholly 
incapable  of  treating  this  subject,  but  his  Crucifixion  in 
this  gallery  is  one  of  his  finest  works.  The  darkness  has 
covered  the  scene,  but  the  figures  are  seen  through  it 
—  the  St.  John,  the  solemn  Virgin,  and  the  passionate 
Magdalene,  who  is  clasping  the  foot  of  the  cross  by  which 
she  kneels,  covered  with  the  deluge  of  her  bright  dishev- 
elled hair.  Another  famous  Crucified  Christ,  by  Reni,  is 
that  in  the  Church  of  San  Lorenzo,  described  by  Mr. 
Browning  in  "  The  Ring  and  the  Book,"  as 

"  Second  to  nought  observable  in  Rome." 

In  this  picture  the  intense  gloom  is  lightened  by  the  gleam 
of  dawn  behind. 

The  Crucifixion  has  been  painted  by  almost  every  re- 
ligious painter.  Two  of  Van  Dyck's  Crucifixions  are  at 
Antwerp  and  Munich.  The  awfulness  of  the  subject 
naturally  appealed  to  the  imagination  of  the  Spanish 
School.  That  school  delighted  in  representing  misery, 
leprosy,  torments,  and  dissolution.  The  masterpiece  of 
Juan  de  Valdes  Leal  is  Two  Dead  Men,  at  Seville,  repre- 
senting the  decomposed  bodies  of  a  bishop  and  a  noble  — 
a  picture  so  horribly  realistic  that  Murillo  declared  that 
he  smelt  it.  All  the  characteristics  of  the  Spanish  mind 
and  of  the  Spanish  religion,  drowned  by  the  Inquisition 
under  fathomless  seas  of  slavish  horror,  may  be  seen  in 
Zurbaran's  dark  and  hideous  picture  of  A  Franciscan  Monk 
in  our  National  Gallery,  —  the  figure  of  a  dirty,  emaciated, 
cowled  devotee  praying  beside  a  skull.  The  Palace  of 
the  Kings  of  Spain  was  "  at  once  a  palace,  a  monastery, 
and  a  prison."  The  art  of  their  people  often  sank  into  a 


THE   CRUCIFIXION   IX   ART.  417 

degradation  of  spirituality,  into  an  unnatural  protrusion 
of  asceticism,  formalism,  triviality,  and  all  that  is  most 
hopelessly  wretched  in  the  experience  of  man. 

The  very  simplicity  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Cruci- 
fixion was  treated  by  Velasquez,  adds  to  the  dark,  deso- 
late, and  awful  hopelessness  which  seems  to  breathe  from 
the  canvas  which  represents  nothing  but  the  figure  of  the 
Redeemer  hanging  upon  His  cross  of  shame.1  It  is  known 
as  El  Crucifixo  de  las  Monjas  de  San  Placido,  and  was 
painted  in  1639.  Placed  on  a  dark  background,  it  stands 
out  "like  an  ivory  carving  on  its  velvet  pall."  "  Never  was 
that  great  agony  more  powerfully  depicted,"  says  Sir  W. 
Stirling  Maxwell.  "  The  head  of  our  Lord  droops  on  His 
right  shoulder,  over  which  falls  a  mass  of  dark  hair,  while 
drops  of  blood  trickle  from  His  thorn-pierced  brow.  The 
anatomy  of  the  naked  body  and  limbs  is  executed  with  as 
much  precision  as  Cennini's  marble,  and  the  linen  cloth,  and 
even  the  fir-wood  of  the  cross,  display  the  accurate  atten- 
tion of  Velasquez  to  even  the  smallest  details."  Of  such 
pictures  we  may  well  say,  as  Luca  Giordano  remarked  to 
Carlos  II.  about  a  picture  by  Velasquez,  though  in  a  differ- 
ent sense5  "  It  is  the  Theology  of  painting  ! "  They  were 
dictated  by  a  misguided  and  unscriptural  devotion.  Pach- 
eco,  in  his  Arte  de  la  Pintura,  places  pictures  above  sermons 
in  their  power  to  move  the  minds  of  the  people.2 

In  spite  of  this,  we  cannot  but  deplore  the  debased 
tendency  of  almost  the  whole  school  of  Spanish  painters 
to  emphasize  horrors.  Bos,  who  painted  much  in  Spain, 
may  stand  as  an  example.  When  called  upon  to  paint 
Christ,  he  always  selects  the  most  appalling  moments  in 
the  Saviour's  mortal  career.  Thus,  in  his  picture  in  the 

1  Of  this  picture,  Stolz  says:  "Die  tiefe  Trauer  des  Bildes  wirft 
mehr  und  mehr  ihre  Schatten  in  die  Seele  je  langer  man  davor  steht. 
Man  ftihlt  sich  angewandelt  von  Ueberdruss  und  Verachtung  gegen  alle 
Lust  und  Glanz  der  Erde." 

2  He  says  that  painting  has  had  "majores  efetos  de  algunas  almas 
que  la  misma  predicacion,"  p.  466.  Velasquez,  in  this  great  picture,  has 
attended  to  Pacheco's  rule  that  each  foot  is  to  be  separately  nailed. 


418  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Museum  of  Valencia,  the  face  of  Jesus  is  pale,  emaciated, 
gory,  thorn-crowned,  and  around  it  are  the  heads  of 
soldiers  gloating  over  that  Divine  agony,  and  grinning 
like  incarnate  devils."  1 

Perhaps  the  worst  offender  is  the  revolting  Ribera  (Lo 
Spagnoletto),  many  of  whose  pictures  are  as  bad  as  was 
his  life.  He  can  only  be  described  in  the  words  of  Lucre- 
tius, as  "Omnia  suffuscans  mortis  nigrore"  Lord  Byron 

says  :  — 

"  Spagnoletto  tainted 
His  brush  with  all  the  blood  of  all  the  Sainted." 

He  revelled  in  such  horrors  as  the  flaying  of  St.  Bar- 
tholomew, Cato  disembowelling  himself,  and  Ixion  on  the 
wheel.  He  belongs  properly  to  the  Neapolitan  School, 
but  is  Spanish  in  all  his  characteristics,  without  the  re- 
deeming trait  even  of  religious  superstition.2 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  turn  from  such  pictures  to  "  The 
Tree  of  Life,"  one  of  the  latest  and  noblest  of  Sir  E. 
Burne  Jones's  paintings.  "  This  sombre  monochrome,  so 
absolutely  original  in  design,  so  chastened  and  restrained 
in  execution,  ranks  with  the  high  symbolic  works  of  the 
Pre-Raphaelites  in  its  grasp  of  the  idea  of  victory  through 
suffering. 

"  The  figure  that  hangs  upon  it  is  brooding  in  benediction 
over  the  whole  world ;  the  supreme  type  of  that  immortal 
love  which  fulfils  the  divine  law  of  sacrifice.  Men,  women, 
and  children  are  gathered  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  tree. 
On  the  one  side  is  a  garden  of  flowers,  and  on  the  other  a 
harvest  of  corn.  Along  the  margin  of  the  earth  is  the 
inscription,  'In  mundo  pressuram  habebitis,  sed  confidite, 
ego  vici  mundum.'  No  extraneous  detail  intrudes  upon 
the  perfect  harmony  of  the  Atonement.  No  over-elabora- 
tion mars  the  calm  of  that  absolute  resignation,  of  that 
unquenchable  hope."  3 

1  See  Sir  W.  Stirling  Maxwell's  Annals  of  the  Artists  of  Spain. 

2  Id.  ii.,  758. 

3  E.  Wood,  Dante  Rossetti,  p.  221. 


THE  CRUCIFIXION. 


Velasquez. 


From  the  Picture  in  the  Museum  at  Madrid. 


BOOK  X. 

THE  DEAD  CHKIST. 


I. 


THE  DESCENT  FROM  THE  CROSS. 

"Arbor,  donde  el  cielo  quiso 
Dar  el  fruto  verdadero, 
Contra  el  bocado  primero, 
Flor  del  nuevo  paraiso."  —  CALDEROX. 

THE  taking  down  of  Christ's  body  from  the  cross  was  a 
very  favourite  subject  of  Art,  and  has  been  rendered  by 
most  of  the  Mediaeval  painters.  The  subject  is  treated  in 
the  Byzantine  style,  with  direct  and  simple  force  in  a  re- 
lief for  the  pulpit  of  Parma  Cathedral,  by  Benedetto  An- 


telami  in  1178,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  accompanying  wood- 
cut. The  Virgin  and  an  angel  uphold  the  left  arm,  on  the 
other  side  the  Archangel  Raphael  pushes  forward  a  priest, 
whom  a  soldier  threatens  with  his  hand. 

421 


422  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

Niccolo  Pisano  depicted  the  subject  about  A.D.  1235,  in 
his  earliest  work,  a  lunette  over  one  of  the  side  doors  of 
San  Martino  at  Lucca.  He  follows  the  old  legend  that 
Joseph  of  Arimathea  supported  the  body,  while  Nicode- 
mus  drew  out  the  nails  from  the  feet,  and  the  Virgin 
kissed  the  bleeding  hand.  The  two  other  Marys  kneel  be- 
hind the  Virgin.  St.  John  holds  and  kisses  the  other  hand, 
and  behind  him  are  three  figures,  of  whom  one  holds  the 
Crown  of  Thorns.  On  the  hill  below  is  seen  the  legen- 
dary skull  of  Adam.  The  superiority  of  composition  over 
Antelami's  is  very  marked.1 

The  Descent  of  Fra  Bartolommeo  in  the  Pitti  at  Florence 
is  regarded  by  some  as  his  masterpiece.  "  What  effect 
there  is,"  says  Burckhardt,  "  in  the  profiles  of  the  nobly 
formed  Christ  and  the  all-forgetting  Mother,  who  impresses 
the  last  kiss  on  His  brow !  With  what  unerring  dramatic 
certainty  is  the  grief  of  John  marked  by  the  additional 
element  of  physical  straining.  There  is  no  lamenting  out 
of  the  picture,  as  in  Van  Dyck ;  no  intentional  heaping 
up  of  the  impression  by  crowding  the  figures,  as  in 
Perugino." 

I  give  but  few  illustrations  of  this  subject,  for  it  seems 
to  me  undesirable  that  it  should  be  painted  at  all. 

The  two  most  famous  specimens  of  its  treatment  are  by 
Daniele  da  Volterra  and  by  Rubens. 

Daniele's  picture  is  in  the  Trinita  de'  Monti  at  Rome. 
It  is  so  much  superior  to  his  other  works  that  the  design 
has  been  attributed  to  Michael  Angelo.  "  The  sinking 
down  of  the  body,  round  which  the  people  standing  on 
ladders  form,  as  it  were,  an  aureole,  is  wonderfully  beauti- 
ful. The  lower  group  round  the  fainting  Madonna  is 
excellent,  but  already  sets  the  pathological  interest  in  the 
place  of  the  purely  tragic." 

The  famous  picture  of  Rubens  at  Antwerp  is  also  re- 
garded as  his  masterpiece.  Rembrandt's  sketch  for  a 
Deposition  is  in  our  Gallery  (4143).  The  Deposition  by 

1  Perkins,  Tuscan  Sculptors,  12. 


THE   DESCENT   FROM   THE   CROSS.  423 

Van  der  Weyden  (A.D.  1443)  in  the  Royal  Museum  at 
Madrid  is  regarded  as  a  favourable  specimen  of  his  work. 
There  is  something  painfully  realistic  in  the  helpless 
dropping  and  swaying  of  the  Body,  but  the  manlier  grief 
of  the  Apostles  is  well  contrasted  with  the  swoon  of  the 
Virgin  and  the  passionate  tears  of  the  Magdalene.1 

1  A  picture  is  given  in  Woltmann  and  Woerinann,  II.,  p.  25.     (E.  T.) 


II. 

THE  PIETA  AND  THE   DEAD   CHRIST,    SUPPORTED  BY 
THE   VIRGIN. 

"  Sed  dum  resolubile  corpus 
Revocas,  Deus,  atque  reformas, 
Quanam  regione  jubebis 
Animam  requiescere  puram  ?  " 

—  PRUDENTIUS. 

A  REPRESENTATION  OF  THE  DEAD  CHRIST,  MOURNED  BY  ANGELS  OR 
BEWEPT  BY  HOLY  WOMEN  AND  DISCIPLES,  is  CALLED  BY  THE  ITAL- 
IANS A  PIETA,  OR  COMPASSION. 

THE  Pieta  was  a  frequent  subject  for  sculpture.  Per- 
haps no  representation  of  the  scene  in  marble  is  finer  than 
that  by  Michael  Angelo  in  St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  The 
Madonna  is  seated  on  a  stone,  and  on  her  knees  lies  the 
undraped  Body,  relaxed  by  death,  yet  noble  in  its  undis- 
turbed majesty.  The  glorious  Head,  with  its  long  tresses, 
leans  backward  upon  her  right  arm,  which  is  passed  round 
the  shoulders.  Her  face  is  still  youthful,  and  she  gazes 
down  upon  the  dead  limbs  in  a  sorrow  too  deep  for  violent 
expression.  Her  left  arm  is  outstretched  and  the  fingers 
of  the  hand  are  half  opened,  as  though  she  were  asking, 
in  the  appeal  of  mute  despair,  what  could  be  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  awful  tragedy.  The  treatment  is  abso- 
lutely antique,  and  disregards  traditional  methods.  When 
Michael  Angelo's  attention  was  drawn  to  the  fact  that 
there  was  little  difference  of  age  between  the  Virgin  and 
her  Son,  he  explained  the  fact  theologically  to  Condivi  by 
a  reference  to  the  Immaculate  conception,  and  the  Aeipar- 
thenia  of  the  Virgin,  as  a  Virgin  ante  partum  in  partu  et 
post  partum;  but  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  such 

424 


THE   PIETA   AXD   THE   DEAD   CHRIST. 


425 


considerations  were  in  his  mind  when   he   wrought   the 
statue.1 

Though  no  Pieta  ever  painted  gave  me  much  pleasure, 
some  of  the  pre-Raphaelite  painters  handle  the  subject 
with  reverence  and  sincerity.  But  paintings  of  "The 


The  Pietk    (Michael  Angelo.) 

Dead  Christ "  become  inconceivably  revolting,  and  even 
worse  than  revolting,  when  the  subject  is  degraded  into 
an  opportunity  for  exhibiting  a  vain  and  vile  science. 
There  is  such  a  Piet&  in  the  Brera  —  attributed  to  Man- 

1  Anton  Springer,  p.  17  (Dohme,  Kunst  unrl.  Kilnstler^. 


426  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

tegna,  but  perhaps  in  reality  by  the  unhappy  Castagno  — 
which  sinks  to  the  lowest  level.  The  nail-prints  are 
horribly  realistic  and  the  faces  of  the  two  weeping  Marys 
are  ignobly  distorted.  Called  a  "  Dead  Christ,"  it  is  only 
a  vulgar  and  ghastly  corpse,  with  the  soles  of  the  feet 
set  straight  at  the  spectator,  and  the  rest  of  the  Body 
violently  foreshortened.  "It  is  exactly  characteristic  of 
the  madness  with  which  all  of  them  —  Pollajuolo,  Castagno, 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  and  Michael  Angelo  —  polluted  their 
work  with  the  science  of  the  sepulchre,  and  degraded  it 
with  presumptuous  and  paltry  technical  skill."  It  was 
probably  only  painted  for  practice,  and  then  disgracefully 
consecrated  by  the  Divine  Name. 

It  is  distressing  to  see  that  even  Holbein  could,  with- 
out a  shock  of  horror,  present  to  the  world  so  ghastly 
and  irreverent  a  mockery  as  his  "Dead  Christ"  in  the 
Basle  Museum.  It  is  a  dead  body  outstretched  at  full 
length;  the  limbs  attenuated,  the  mouth  horribly  open, 
the  lank,  meagre  hair  streaming  backwards,  the  eyes  un- 
closed, the  details  revoltingly  realistic,  evidently  a  nude 
study  from  the  corpse  of  a  drowned  man.  Yet  Holbein 
thinks  to  turn  this  offensive  horror  into  a  solemn  religious 
picture  by  inscribing  above  it,  "  Jesu,  Nazarenus,  Rex  Judce- 
orum  !  "  It  is  only  less  offensive  than  Castagno's  because 
it  is  not  livid:  but  that  it  should  have  been  held 
permissible,  and  even  laudable,  to  paint  such  pictures, 
should  furnish  a  solemn  warning  to  the  daring  irreverence 
of  Art,  and  the  erringly  morbid  thoughtlessness  of  profes- 
sedly devotional  thought.  We  must,  however,  distinguish 
between  the  faults  of  an  epochs  and  those  of  the  painters 
themselves.  Art  unconsciously  reflects  the  tendencies  of 
each  succeeding  epoch,  and  the  art  of  an  age  naturally 
produces  what  the  religion  of  an  age  approves.  Custom 
paralyzes  alike  the  heart  and  the  mind  with  a  fatal 
callosity. 

Giovanni  Bellini's  "  Dead  Christ "  with  the  Virgin  and 
St.  John  is  in  the  Brera.  Christ  is  represented  in  a  stand- 


THE   PIETA   AND   THE   DEAD   CHRIST. 


427 


ing  posture.  It  is  one  of  his  least  successful  pictures,  and 
the  St.  John  is  both  conventional  and  ugly ;  but  the  car- 
tellino  below  shows  the  depth  of  feeling  with  which  it  was 
painted.1 

There  is  a  well-known  Pieta  in  which  many  have  sup- 
posed that  they  can  trace  the  genuine  work  of  Giorgione, 
but  which  has  been  assigned  by  H.  Liicke,  to  Pordenone. 
The  Body  of  Christ  is  being  placed  in  a  stone  sepulchre 
by  strong  boy-angels.  The  form  of  the  Saviour  is  of 
Herculean  proportions  and  muscularity.  The  Head, 
greatly  foreshortened,  is  sinking  back  into  one  cherub's 
arms.  Another  upholds  the  wounded  right  hand.  A 
third  is  trying  to  pull  up  from  the  tomb  a  part  of  the 
striped  robe  to  shroud  the  limbs.  It  is  a  work  rather 
powerful  than  pleasing,  and,  though  it  has  reminiscences 
of  Giorgione's  style,  is  probably  the  work  of  one  of  his 
imitators. 

In  our  National  Gallery  there  are  three  Pietas  which 
illustrate,  in  a  striking  way,  the  effect  produced  upon 
the  treatment  by  the  artistic  character  and  aim. 


Nothing  can  be  sweeter,  purer,  more  reverent  than  the 
lunette  (No.  180),  in  which  Francia  has  painted  "  The 
Virgin  and  two  angels  weeping  over  the  dead  body  of 
Christ."  There  is  no  horror  in  Francia's  picture.  Christ 

1  In  Dohme's  series  III.,  p.  40. 


428  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

is  dead,  but  is  still  beautiful  and  Divine  in  death.  Death 
has  not  defaced  or  disturbed  His  mortal  tabernacle.  There 
is  hope  and  even  joy  amid  the  sorrow  of  the  Virgin  and 
the  angels,  who  feel  that  the  death  of  Jesus  must  ulti- 
mately involve  the  death  of  Death  himself. 

Crivelli's    (No.    602)    represents    the    body   of    Christ 

supported  on  the  edge   of   the  tomb  by  two   Angioletti. 

Like  all  his  pictures,  it  has  in  it  an  element  of  affectation 

—  a  sort  of  pre-determined  or  exaggerated  pathos.     It  is, 

however,  less  crude  than  some  of  Crivelli's  worst. 

Spagnoletto's  Pieta  (No.  235)  betrays  its  origin  in  a 
decadent  age  and  an  evil  school.  There  is  no  religion 
and  no  sincerity  here  —  only  a  "subject."  The  Virgin, 
St.  John,  and  the  Magdalene  are  weeping  over  a  dead 
Christ;  but  their  weeping  is  not  real  enough  to  move 
us,  and  we  are  offended  by  the  connexion  of  ghastliness 
with  the  Redeeming  death.  The  Spanish  School  does 
not  touch  our  hearts.  Morales  was  called  "el  divino," 
and  painted  many  weeping  Virgins  and  Pietas,  of  which 
"the  object  is  to  create  devotion  through  images  of 
pain ;  and  to  this  end  the  forms  are  attenuated,  and 
the  faces  disfigured  by  the  marks  of  past  and  present 
anguish.  Of  beauty  there  is  little,  and  of  dignity 
less."  J 

In  the  Berlin  Museum  is  a  Pieta  by  Mantegna,  which 
is  as  little  painful  as  the  subject  renders  possible.  It  is 
a  half  length  of  the  Dead  Christ  supported  very  tenderly 
by  two  angelic  youths  with  outspread  wings.  They  rest 
their  cheeks  with  holy  reverence  against  His  falling  locks, 
and  each  of  them  supports  one  of  His  arms.  The  hands 
and  the  side  show  the  wounds,  but  the  face  is  peacefully 
majestic  in  its  grand  beauty,  and  the  form  is  of  sculp- 
turesque magnificence.2 

The  best  and  grandest  Pieta  produced  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  (about  1630)  is  undoubtedly  that  of  Van 

1  Sir  F.  W.  Burton. 

2  It  is  given  in  Liibke,  Hist,  of  Art.,  II.  174. 


THE   PIETA   AND   THE   DEAD   CHRIST.  429 

Dyck,  in  the  Museum  at  Antwerp.1  Under  a  dark  and 
stormy  sky,  the  Virgin,  with  arms  outspread,  and  a  face 
of  inexpressible  anguish,  is  seated  at  the  mouth  of  the 
sepulchral  cave.  The  Dead  Christ  is  a  noble  figure, 
treated  with  perfect  reverence,  and  the  head,  still  encircled 
by  its  flashing  nimbus,  rests  upon  the  Mother's  knees. 
St.  John,  a  young  man  of  grand  features,  with  floAving 
curls,  is  uplifting  the  right  hand  and  points  out  the  wounds 
of  the  nails  to  an  adoring  angel,  who  with  clasped  hands 
is  leaning  towards  him  out  of  the  clouds.  Another  strong 
angel,  with  wings  still  unfolded,  is  kneeling  at  Christ's 
feet,  and  his  long,  fair  tresses  fall  over  his  shoulders  as 
he  hides  his  face  in  his  robe  to  conceal  the  passion  of  his 
tears.  Van  Dyck  excelled  in  the  powerful  expression  of 
sorrow,  and  there  are  few  Pietas  so  moving  as  this. 

We  must  allow  a  certain  tragic  grandeur  to  the  way  in 
which  Titian  has  handled  the  subject  in  the  Academia 
picture,  which  is  said  to  be  his  last  (A.D.  1570).  Titian 
was  then  99,  and  the  picture  was  finished  by  Palma 
Giovane.  It  is  almost  a  monochrome.  On  one  side, 
painted  in  grisaille,  is  Moses,  on  the  other  a  figure  of 
Faith.  There  is  an  intense  motherly  anxiety  on  the  face 
of  the  Virgin,  and  the  Magdalene,  in  a  frenzy  of  grief, 
with  her  long  golden  hair  streaming  wildly  about  her,  points 
with  one  hand  to  the  Body,  and  with  the  other  calls  another 
spectator  to  come  forward.  One  angel  stoops  over  a  vase 
of  spices,  and  another  carries  a  lighted  torch.  The  figure 
of  the  Lord  in  this  picture  is  not  degraded  by  the  offen- 
sive scientific  realism  which  is  so  displeasing  in  many  of 
the  Roman  School.  We  .can  hardly  agree  with  Sir  C. 
Eastlake  in  regarding  this  picture  as  a  melancholy  evi- 
dence of  the  wreck  to  which  old  age  had  reduced  the 
once  splendid  genius  of  the  great  Venetian. 

1  There  are  two  of  the  same  subject  by  Van  Dyck  at  Munich.  It  was 
also  treated  by  Perugino  (Florence  Academy,  A.D.  1493);  by  Correggio 
in  the  picture  called  the  Vierge  de  VEchelle,  because  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
is  descending  a  ladder  from  the  cross  ;  by  Murillo  at  Seville,  and  by 
many  others. 


430 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


In  the  Academia  there  is  also  a  Dead  Christ  by  Bissolo, 
which  has  much  charm  of  pathos  and  refinement. 


The  Dead  Christ.      (Bissolo.) 


Raphael's  "  Entombment,"  finished  in  1507,  and  now  in 
the  Borghese  Gallery,  marks  an  important  phase  in  his 
artistic  development.  He  abandoned  the  more  formal 
tradition  of  representing  the  subject.  To  the  left  are  two 
Apostles,  who  carry  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the  Dead 
Christ,  while  St.  John  gazes  down  between  them  at  His 
face.  Another  disciple  lifts  the  legs,  but  between  the 
two  bearers  of  the  corpse  rushes  in  the  distracted  Mag- 
dalene to  look  once  more  at  the  dead  features  and  up- 
lift the  pierced  hand.  On  the  right  three  women  are 
attending  to  the  fainting  Virgin ;  Golgotha  and  the 
Three  Crosses  are  visible  in  the  distance.  Powerful  and 
skilful  as  is  the  composition,  the  picture  is  utterly  dis- 
pleasing. The  only  impression  left  on  the  mind  by  the 
exaggerated  efforts  and  attitudes  of  the  Apostles  is  the 
extreme  physical  weight  of  the  Body.  The  Dead  Christ 
is  not  adequately  conceived,  and  there  is  none  of  the 
beauty  and  majesty  of  death  on  the  distorted  face. 

Among   other  Entombments,  that  of   Tintoret   in    the 


THE   PIETA  AND   THE   DEAD   CHRIST.  431 

Gallery  of  Parma  must  hold  a  high  place.  The  body  of 
the  majestic  Christ  is  supported  by  two  angels,  while  a 
third,  with  his  great  crimson  wings  outspread,  upholds 
the  arms.  "Dwelling  on  the  event  as  the  fulfilment  of 
the  prophecy,  '  He  made  His  grave  with  the  wicked  and 
with  the  rich  in  His  death,'  Tintoret  desires  to  direct  the 
mind  of  the  spectator  to  the  receiving  of  the  Body  of 
Christ  in  contrast  to  the  houseless  birth  and  the  home- 
less life.  And  therefore  behind  the  ghastly  black  and 
withered  tomb-grass,  which  shakes  its  blades  above  the 
rocks  of  the  sepulchre,  there  is  seen  ...  a  desert  place, 
where  the  foxes  have  holes  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have 
nests  ;  and  against  the  barred  twilight  of  the  melancholy 
sky  are  seen  the  mouldering  beams  and  shattered  roofing 
of  a  ruined  cattle-shed,  canopy  of  the  Nativity." 1 

There  is  another  Entombment  by  Tintoret  in  the  Brera 
Gallery  at  Milan,  and  it  is  worthily  treated.  The  Dead 
Body  of  Christ  rests  on  a  sheet  of  fine  white  linen,  on  which 
is  laid  a  robe  of  crimson.  The  relaxed  right  hand  lies 
open  beside  a  crown  of  thorns.  St.  Peter  and  the  Virgin, 
standing  at  His  head,  look  down  with  adoring  pity  on  the 
glorious  face,  which  wears  an  expression  not  of  defeat  or 
agony,  but  of  divine  repose,  while  the  lips  almost  seem  to 
be  breaking  into  a  smile  of  radiant  peace.  On  the  right 
stands  the  impassioned  Magdalene,  her  golden  hair  all  in 
neglected  confusion,  and  both  arms  outstretched  as  she 
bends  downward,  her  whole  face  rapt  into  an  expression  of 
intense  sorrow  and  devotion. 

In  our  National  Gallery  there  is  a  poor  Entombment  by 
Palmezzano  (No.  596)  ;  "  Angels  weeping  over  the  Dead 
Christ "  by  Guercino  (No.  22)  ;  a  very  displeasing  one  by 
Van  der  Weyden  (No.  664) ;  a  painful  unfinished  one  by 
Michael  Angelo  (No.  790).  The  Renaissance  and  the 
later  Catholic  revival  unhappily  delighted  in  such  themes. 
They  showed  a  tendency  to  revel  in  artificial  horrors,  and 
religion,  after  it  had  been  half  paganized,  did  not  recover 

1  Huskin. 


432  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

its  old  cheerful  simplicity,  but  became  "  hysterical,  dog- 
matic, hypocritical,  and  sacerdotal  —  not  Christianity  in- 
deed, but  Catholicism  galvanized  by  terror  into  reactionary 
movement." l 

There  is  an  Entombment  by  Ford  Madox  Brown,  which 
is  one  of  his  finest  works,  at  once  austere,  pathetic,  and 
full  of  spiritual  fervour.  "The  dignity  of  the  human 
body,  the  solemnity  and  awfulness  of  physical  death,  the 
tender  charm  of  child  life,  and  child  innocence,  the 
mystery  of  immortality,  and  the  apprehension  of  a  '  risen ' 
life,  —  all  these  things  are  brought  within  the  range  of 
thought  opened  up  by  that  sombre  and  majestic  design. 
The  faces  of  the  women  bending  over  the  loved  corpse 
are  full  of  grief  and  perplexity,  yet  even  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  death  there  is  a  subtle  breath  of  triumph*  and  of 
hope,  and  sense  that  the  body  is  not  all,  that  what  is  left 
is  but  the  shell,  the  '  house  of  Life ' ;  the  true  Life  is  not 
dead,  but  gone  —  whither  ?  The  tender  light  that  plays 
round  the  mourners,  and  that  contrast  of  the  vigorous, 
lithe  body  of  the  young  child  with  the  aged  and  shattered 
frame  of  the  dead  martyr,  seem  to  voice  the  eternal 
protest  of  the  heart  against  annihilation,  the  irrepressible 
demand  of  the  soul  for  a  future  life."  2 

1  Symonds,  VII.  403. 

2  E.  Wood,  Dante  Bossetti,  p.  220. 


III. 

THE   DESCENT   INTO   HELL. 

"lo  era  nuovo  in  questo  stato 

Quando  ci  vidi  venire  un  possente 
Con  segno  di  vittoria  incoronato." 

—  DAXTE,  Inf.,  IV.  52-55. 

"  When  Thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharpness  of  death,  Thou  didst  open 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers."  —  Te  Deum. 

CHRIST'S  Descent  into  Hades,  known  in  old  English 
writers  as  The  Harrowing  of  Hell,  was  a  doctrine  which 
the  Church  mainly  derived  from  1  Pet.  iii.  19.  Its  object 
was  believed  to  be  the  deliverance  of  the  patriarchs  ot 
the  old  Dispensation  from  their  prison-house,  that  they 
might  enter  Paradise  in  the  Triumph  of  Christ. 

Fra  Angelico's  Descent  of  Christ  into  Limbo  is  in  San 
Marco  at  Florence.  It  is  full  of  feeling.  "  We  observe 
at  once  the  intense  fixed,  statue-like  silence  of  ineffable 
adoration  upon  the  spirits  in  prison  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
side  by  side,  the  hands  lifted,  and  the  knees  bowed,  and 
the  lips  trembling  together."  l 

The  descent  of  Christ  to  the  under-world  to  deliver  the 
spirits  in  prison,  was  related  at  length  in  the  Latin  Gospel 
of  Nicodemus.  A  cry  is  heard  in  the  abyss,  "  Lift  up  your 
heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lift  up  ye  everlasting  doors, 
and  the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in."  Satan  and  Hades 
cry,  "  Who  is  the  King  of  Glory?"  And  the  voice  of  the 
Lord  answers  them,  "  The  Lord  strong  and  mighty,  the 
Lord  mighty  in  battle."  Then  the  penitent  robber  enters 
and  Satan  closes  the  door  on  him.  David,  burning  with 
1  Ruskin,  Modern  Painters,  II.  52. 


434  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

anger,  cries  to  Satan,  "  Oh  them  most  polluted  one,  open 
thy  gates  that  the  King  of  Glory  may  come  in,"  and  all 
the  saints  of  God  rise  against  Satan.  Then  Hades  sud- 
denly trembles,  the  gates  and  locks  of  death  are  demol- 
ished and  fall  to  the  ground,  and  all  things  are  laid  open.1 
"  Then  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  Saviour  of  all,  who  is  most 
kind  and  gentle,  saluted  Adam  graciously,  and  said  to 
him,  "  Peace  to  thee,  Adam,  together  with  thy  children 
through  immeasurable  ages."  Then  father  Adam  fell 
down  at  the  feet  of  the  Lord,  and  arose  again  and  kissed 
His  hands  and  wept  violently,  saying,  "  Behold  the  hands 
that  fashioned  me.  .  .  ."  Then  all  the  Saints  worshipped 
Him,  and  at  their  request  He  leaves  His  cross  in  the  under- 
world as  the  symbol  of  victory  in  Hades,  where  it  will 
remain  forever. 

But  no  painter  has  surpassed  Albrecht  Diirer  in  the 
intensity  of  imaginative  power  with  which  he  has  treated 
this  subject  in  his  Little  Passion. 

"  In  this  cut,"  says  Mrs.  Heaton,  "  the  originality  of 
Diirer's  genius  bursts  forth  in  all  its  strength.  There  was 
no  traditional  mode  of  representation  of  this  subject,  and 
therefore  his  weird  fancy  rioted  with  compositions  un- 
trammelled by  any  previous  form  of  orthodox  treatment. 
Hell  is  represented  here,  not  as  usual  by  the  fiery  mouth 
of  a  dragon,  but  as  a  ruined  underground  mansion,  out  of 
the  dark  vaults  of  which  Christ,  holding  the  banner  of 
victory  in  one  hand,  is  helping,  or  rather  dragging,  up  the 
souls  of  His  ancestors.  Adam  and  Eve  have  been  already 
liberated,  and  Adam,  a  powerful  old  man,  stands  behind 
Christ,  holding  an  apple  in  one  hand,  the  symbol  of  his 
fall,  and  the  cross  in  the  other,  the  emblem  of  his  redemp- 
tion.2 Eve  stands  with  her  back  turned  to  the  spectators. 
A  hideous  demon  of  animal  form,  somewhat  similar  to  the 
one  that  follows  the  Knight  in  the  plate  of  '  the  Knight, 
Death,  and  the  Devil,'  leans  out  of  a  sort  of  window  above 

1  Comp.  Dante,  Inf.,  XXI.  106-114. 

2  Dante,  Inf.,  IV.  55.    Trasseci  1'ombra  del  primo  parente,  etc. 


THE   DESCENT   INTO   HELL. 


435 


the  arched  entrance  to  Hell,  and  with  a  face  of  alarm  and 
rage,  aims  a  blow  at  the  Saviour  with  a  short,  broken  lance. 


The  Descent  into  Hell.     (Albrecht  DUrer.) 


Other  fearful  forms  lurk  behind;  and  above,  a   dreadful 
bat-like  form,  with  ram's  horns  and  scaly  tail,  sounds  on  a 


436  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

horn  a  note  of  alarm  at  the  invasion  of  his  territory  by  the 
power  of  light."  l 

Such  is  the  beauty  and  dignity  with  which  Diirer 
handled  the  scene  of  Christ's  descent  into  Hell,  as  de- 
scribed in  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.  If  we  desire  to  see 
a  thoroughly  debased  and  insincere  representation  of  the 
same  scene,  we  have  only  to  look  at  the  picture  by 
Bronzino  in  the  Uffizi  at  Florence.  It  is  the  picture  of  a 
mannerist,  who,  in  painting  it,  can  hardly  have  had  one 
thought  which  was  not  contemptible  so  far  as  any  religious 
feeling  is  concerned.  It  is  full  of  revolting  nudities,  even 
the  Christ  Himself  being  a  nude  Academy  model.  From 
the  ridiculous  and  futile  demons  at  the  top,  to  the  naked 
women  and  children  at  the  bottom,  there  is  not  one  gleam 
of  nobleness  in  it.  The  figures  are  mostly  portraits,  and 
one  is  the  mistress  of  Francesco  I.  de'  Medici.  The  face 
of  the  bald  man  whom  Christ  is  raising  by  the  hand  wears 
upon  it  a  detestable  smirk.  Mr.  Ruskin  speaks  of  this 
picture  severely,  but  hardly  too  severely,  when  he  says : 
"Vile  as  this  picture  is  in  colour,  vacant  in  invention, 
void  in  light  and  shade,  a  heap  of  cumbrous  nothingness, 
it  is  in  all  its  voids  most  void  in  this,  that  the  Academy 
models  therein  huddled  together  at  the  bottom  show  not 
so  much  unity  or  community  of  attention  to  the  Academy 
model  with  the  flag  in  its  hand  above,  as  a  street  crowd 
would  do  to  a  fresh-staged  charlatan."2  What  we  at  once 
see  in  this  picture  is  the  degradation  of  Art  produced  by 
coarse  and  unintelligent  imitations  of  Michael  Angelo's 
Last  Judgment.  The  Mannerists  give  us  confused 
heaps  of  nude  figures,  coarsely  realistic,  and  often  grossly 
exaggerated,  "  which  rush  in  and  out  among  each  other  in 
all  possible  and  impossible  positions,  over  a  space  which 
would  not  hold  a  third  part  of  them." 

1  Mrs.  Heaton,  132.     "This  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest  of  Diirer's 
woodcuts.     A  sort  of  cockatrice  monster  glares  round  the  corner  of  the 
open  door  of  Hell  at  Christ." 

2  Modern  Painters,  II.  53. 


THE   DESCENT  INTO   HELL.  437 

Of  all  religious  subjects  which  could  be  painted,  few 
can  equal  this  in  inherent  grandeur  and  solemnity.  The 
simplest  painter  who  paints  it  with  holy  sincerity  adds 
something  to  our  reverence  and  admiration ;  but  of  such 
pictures  as  this  by  Bronzino,  we  can  only  say  with  Horace, 

"  Quodcunque  ostendis  mihi  sic,  incredulus  odi." 

Unbelief,  or  a  purely  official  and  artificial  belief,  unpuri- 
fied  of  its  gross  carnality,  can  only  disgust  and  offend  us 
when  it  attempts  to  illustrate  such  divine  and  glorious 
themes. 


BOOK   XL 

THE    RISEX    CHRIST. 


"Resumpta    came    resurgit  victor    die  in    tertia."  —  Sarum   Missal 
(Thursday  in  Easter  Week). 


1. 

THE   RESURRECTION. 

"  Salve  festa  dies,  toti  venerabilis  sevo, 

Qua  Deus  infernum  vicit  et  astra  tenet ! 
Ecce  renascentis  testatur  gratia  mundi, 
Orania  cum  Domino  dona  redisse  suo." 

—  FORTUXATCS. 

•'Ben  m'  accors'  io  ch'  ell  era  d'  alta  lode, 
Per6  che  a  me  venia:  '  Risurgi  e  Vinci.'  " 

—DANTE,  Farad.  XIV.  124. 

No  description  of  the  Resurrection  of  Christ  is  given  by 
the  Evangelist.  The  actual  event  was  not  witnessed,  ap- 
parently, by  the  human  eyes  of  any  disciple.  No  details 
are  given  even  in  the  Apocryphal  Gospels,  though  the  ac- 
count in  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  is  a  slight  amplificatior 
of  Matt,  xxviii.  2. 

"  Therefore  one  of  the  soldiers  who  guarded  the  tomb, 
came,  and  said  in  the  synagogue,  'Know  that  Jesus  is 
risen  ! '  The  Jews  said,  '  How  ?  '  And  he  said  :  '  First, 
there  was  an  earthquake ;  then  an  angel  of  the  Lord, 
bearing  lightning,  came  down  from  heaven  and  rolled  away 
the  stone  from  the  sepulchre,  and  sat  upon  it.  And  through 
fear  of  this  all  we  soldiers  became  as  dead  men,  and  could 
neither  flee  nor  speak.' ' 

The  women  saw  the  angel,  and  apparently  witnessed 
the  earthquake,  as  did  the  terrified  guards  —  a  quaternion 
whom  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  multiplies  into  500 ;  but 
we  are  not  told  that  they  saw  Christ  Himself  rise  from 
the  tomb. 

The  pictures  of  the  scene  only  vary  in  minor  details. 
Jesus  is  almost  invariably  represented  carrying  in  His 

441 


442  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

hand  the  Resurrection  flag,  with  the  red  cross  on  its  white 
ground,  with  which  in  the  same  Apocryphal  Gospel  He 
entered  the  Limbo  of  the  Fathers.  He  is  thus  painted 
in  the  little  picture  by  Francesco  Mantegna,  the  son  and 
pupil  of  the  great  Andrea,  in  our  National  Gallery. 

"A  mass  of  hollow  rock  fills  the  centre  of  the  picture, 
containing  a  marble  sarcophagus,  upon  the  edge  of  which 
stands  the  risen  Saviour,  partly  clad  in  a  red  mantle,  His 
right  hand  raised  in  benediction,  His  left  bearing  a  tall 
rod  surmounted  by  a  cross  composed  of  golden  balls,  with 
a  red-cross  banner  attached  to  it.  On  the  ledge  of  rock 
below  lie  sleeping  four  soldiers,  while  a  fifth  seems  to 
keep  watch.  A  slender  tree  closes  the  picture  to  the 
right.  The  serene  sky  indicates  advanced  dawn."  1 

In  an  earlier  picture  by  Orcagna  (No.  578),  the  general 
details  are  much  the  same. 

In  Perugino's  picture  in  the  Vatican,  Christ  rises  in 
a  mandorla,  and  two  angels  are  running  up  to  adore  Him 
on  either  side.  By  the  altar-shaped  tomb  below,  one 
soldier  —  said  to  be  a  portrait  of  Perugino  himself  —  is 
flying ;  one  is  clutching  at  his  sword  as  though  in  a  terri- 
fied dream,  and  one  —  said  to  represent  Raphael  —  is  a 
slumbering  youth. 

The  picture  by  Raffaellino  del  Garbo  at  Florence,  is 
highly  praised  by  Vasari.  Two  soldiers  are  asleep,  and 
two  are  prostrate  with  terror,  on  one  of  whom  the  stone 
of  the  sepulchre  has  fallen  with  crushing  weight. 

The  subject  has  also  been  treated  by  Raphael  in  the 
Vatican;  by  Rembrandt  (Munich);  by  Sodoma  (Naples); 
and  several  times  by  Tintoretto.  His  pictures  of  it  are 
unsuccessful.  The  one  in  St.  Cassiano  is  "not  so  much 
of  the  Resurrection  as  of  Roman  Catholic  saints  thinking 
about  the  Resurrection.'"  It  is  strange  that  the  painter 
never  seemed  able  to  conceive  this  subject  with  any 
power,  and  is  marvellously  hampered  by  various  types 
and  conventionalities.  In  St.  Rocco  his  treatment  is 

1  Sir  F.  W.  Burton. 


THK  RISEX  CHRIST.  Francesco  Mantcrjna. 

From  the  Picture  in  the  Xational  Gallery,  London. 


THE   RESURRECTION. 


443 


characteristic   of   his  worst   points.      His   impetuosity   is 
here  in  the  wrong  place.     Christ  bursts  out  of  the  rock 


The  Resurrection.    (Albrecht  Diirer.) 

like  a  thunderbolt,  and  the  angels  themselves  seem  likely 
to  be  crushed  under  the  rent  stones  of   the  tomb.     The 


444  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

picture  in  San  Giorgio  Maggiore  seems  to  have  been 
chiefly  painted  for  the  sake  of  its  portraits.1  The  picture 
by  Lodovico  Carracci  in  the  Louvre,  calls  for  no  separate 
remark,  nor  is  tHere  any  later  attempt  to  depict  the  sub- 
ject which  has  the  least  religious  or  artistic  significance. 
The  accompanying  illustration  is  the  powerful  Resurrec- 
tion in  the  "  Greater  Passion  "  of  Albrecht  Diirer. 

1  Stones  of  Venice,  III.  290,  303,  337. 


II. 

"NOLI  ME   TANGEKE." 

"  Gaude,  plaude,  Magdalena, 
Tuinbae  Christus  exiit, 
Tristis  est  peracta  scena, 
Victor  mortis  rediit." 

—  PETRUS  VENERABILIB. 

A  PAINTING  of  Christ's  appearance  to  Mary  Magdalene 
in  the  garden,  is  called  a  "  Noli  me  tangere."  We  have 
one  by  Titian  in  the  National  Gallery.  Christ  is  partially 
dressed  in  white,  and  a  hoe  is  (very  superfluously)  placed 
in  His  hand,  because  Mary  at  first  supposed  Him  to  be  the 
gardener,  although  this  was  only  before  she  had  turned  to 
look  at  Him  (John  xx.  16). *  Mary  is  kneeling  before 
Him.  In  the  centre  is  a  solitary  tree,  in  the  background 
some  buildings  on  a  hill;  in  the  distance  a  landscape.  The 
solemnity  of  the  picture  is  derived  in  great  measure  from 
"  the  hues  and  harmonies  of  evening,"  in  which  it  is  bathed, 
and  which  fall  over  the  Risen  Saviour  and  the  weeping 
penitent,  who  stretches  out  her  hand  to  touch  Him. 

Owing  to  the  Vulgate  rendering,  "  Touch  me  not" 
the  painters  have  always  failed  to  observe  that  the  true 
meaning  of  the  original  is  quite  different.  The  Greek 
words  fjnj  pov  aTTTov  (John  xx.  17)  do  not  mean  "  touch 
me  not,"  but  rather,  "  cling  not  to  me,"  or,  more  literally, 
"  be  not  grasping  hold  of  me."  There  is,  in  fact,  in  some 

1  The  same  misconception  occurs  in  many  other  pictures.  As  in  one 
by  Giotto  and  one  by  Taddeo  Gaddi  (New  Gallery,  1894).  Even  Fra 
Angelico  puts  a  spade  into  the  hand  of  Christ ;  and  —  as  we  always  find 
the  extreme  of  futility  and  exaggeration  in  the  seventeenth  century  — 
one  painter  represents  Him  digging  carrots ! 

445 


446  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

manuscripts  and  versions  a  clause,  "  and  she  ran  forward  to 
grasp  Him."  There  was  nothing  to  forbid  that  Mary 
should  touch  Him,  any  more  than  that  Thomas  should 
touch  Him,  or  the  disciples,  to  whom  He  said,  "  Handle 
me,  and  see ; "  but  the  deep  lesson  implied  was,  that  the 
bodily  nearness,  the  earthly  affection,  the  material  fellow- 
ship, were  vanished  with  the  past,  while  the  Spiritual 
Union  had  not  yet  begun,  nor  could  begin  till  after  the 
Ascension. 

There  lies,  in  truth,  in  this  passage,  rightly  understood, 
a  deep  warning  against  that  substitution  of  the  material 
for  the  spiritual,  of  the  evanescent  for  the  permanent,  of 
the  partial  for  the  complete,  of  the  sentimental  for  the  di- 
vine, which  would  have  saved  Religion  as  well  as  Art  from 
many  deadly  aberrations.  It  might  have  rescued  them 
from  expending  misdirected  emotion  on  the  Dead  Body, 
when  they  should  have  been  working  for  the  living  Lord ; 
from  exhausting  a  spasmodic  sentimentality  over  the  hu- 
miliated sufferer,  when  they  should  have  been  obeying  the 
Eternal  King.  Art  has  followed  Religion  in  the  tendency 
to  stimulate  the  luxury  of  an  erring  and  self-cherished 
grief,  when  she  should  have  fostered  the  self-control,  the 
natural  sincerity,  the  vigorous  service,  the  glad  enthu- 
siasm, the  radiant  and  active  zeal,  for  which  tears  and  self- 
maceration  are  the  most  miserable  of  substitutes.  And 
thus,  Religion  and  Art  alike  tended  to  give  us  idols  for  God, 
and  hysterics  for  duties,  and  to  set  before  us  a  Christ,  either 
wrathful,  repellent,  and  anathematizing,  or  narrow  and 
sectarian,  or  effeminate  and  pietistic,  or  morose  and  exact- 
ing, or  morbid  and  torture-loving,  for  Him  who  went 
about  doing  good,  who  came  eating  and  drinking,  who 
was  the  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  and  who  compared 
His  own  preaching  of  the  Gospel  to  that  of  the  glad  chil- 
dren in  the  market-place,  crying  to  their  sullen  comrades, 
"  We  have  piped  unto  you  and  ye  have  not  danced." 

We  see,  then,  that  at  the  infinitely  solemn  moment  of 
His  earliest  appearance,  Christ  gave  the  warning  to  His 


"XOLI  ME   TAXGERE."  447 

Church  not  to  confound  His  bodily  form  with  His  real 
Presence.  Mary  was  yearning  for  the  Human  Jesus  ;  He 
pointed  her  to  the  Divine  Christ.  It  was  as  though  He 
said  it  is  not  by  the  outward  sense  that  I  can  henceforth 
be  apprehended,  but  spiritually  and  in  the  heart  alone. 
The  old  earthly  life  is  over,  the  New  Glory  has  not  yet 
begun.  When  the  Ascension  had  taken  place,  it  was  to 
inaugurate  the  new  era  in  which  physical  contact  was  to 
be  superseded  by  the  loftier  intercourse  and  deeper  near- 
ness of  spiritual  indwelling.  The  disappearance  of  the 
mortal  body  was  the  sole  possible  condition  of  the  abiding 
Presence  of  the  Eternal  Spirit. 

Painters,  ill-taught  by  an  erring  Church,  wholly  failed 
to  observe  these  truths,  and  their  pictures  of  the  first 
appearance  of  the  Risen  Christ  to  the  penitent  sinner, 
have  for  the  most  part  but  little  meaning.  One  picture, 
however,  in  the  National  Gallery,  by  Francesco  Mantegna 
(No.  639)  is  interesting  for  its  incidental  symbolism.  A 
vine,  rich  with  purple  clusters,  hangs  over  the  figure  of 
Christ,  to  indicate  His  words,  "  I  am  the  true  Vine."  It  is 
supported  on  a  dead  tree,  the  emblem  of  the  dry  and 
withered  stock  of  Judaism.  On  one  side  a  bird  defends 
its  nest  against  a  serpent ;  on  the  other  is  a  bee-hive.1 

1  In  a  Virgin  and  Child  by  Bassano  (N.  G.  599),  there  is  an  eagle  on 
a  dead  tree  watching  a  contest  between  a  stork  and  a  snake. 


III. 

THE   SUPPER   AT   EMMAUS. 

"  He  bless'd  the  bread,  but  vanish'd  at  the  word, 
And  left  them  both  exclaiming,  '  'Twas  the  Lord  ! ' 
Did  not  our  hearts  feel  all  He  deign' d  to  say  ? 
Did  they  not  burn  within  us  by  the  way  ?  " 

COWPBR. 

No  scene  in  the  Gospel  records  of  the  Risen  Christ  has 
been  more  popular  in  Art  than  the  supper  with  the  two 
disciples  at  Emmaus. 

The  picture  of  this  scene  by  Bellini  is  in  the  Church  of 
San  Salvador  at  Venice.  It  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the 
grandeur  given  to  the  head  of  Christ,  which  makes  Burck- 
hardt  call  it  "  one  of  the  first  pictures  in  Italy."  It  is 
now  assigned  by  some  critics  to  Carpaccio.  Marziale's 
Emmaus  is  in  the  Academy.  The  Venetian  School 
generally  (e.g.,  Titian  and  Palm  a  Vecchio)  treated  the 
subject  in  a  somewhat  genre-like  manner,  amid  earthly 
and  commonplace  surroundings,  but  without  the  insolent 
and  burlesquely  vulgar  realism  of  Honthorst  in  the  Man- 
frini  gallery,  or  of  Caravaggio  in  our  own. 

Of  the  later  Venetian  masters  of  the  school  of  Titian, 
few  certainly  are  more  powerful  or  more  interesting  than 
Bonifazio.  He  often  combines  the  form  and  colouring  of 
Titian  with  a  motif,  or  with  accessories,  in  which  Paolo 
Veronese  would  have  delighted.  These  characteristics 
are  illustrated  by  his  Supper  at  Emmaus  in  the  Brera. 
The  figure  of  the  Christ  is  conventional,  and  this  is  the 
point  in  which  so  many  painters  conspicuously  fail.  But 
the  rest  of  the  picture  is  delightful,  though  it  has  no  con- 
nexion with  the  sacred  scene,  except  that  outside  the  Inn 

448 


THE  SUPPER  AT  EMMAUS.  449 

is  a  sketch  of  Christ  walking  with  the  two  disciples.  As 
Christ  breaks  the  bread,  the  disciple  on  the  right  outspreads 
his  hands  in  surprise,  while  the  other  has  started  up  from 
his  seat.  A  youth  at  the  left  is  ponring  out  wine,  and  by 
his  side  stands  the  stout  landlord.  On  the  other  side  is 
seen  the  kitchen,  and  on  a  wooden  platform  stands  a  boy 
in  a  blue  cap,  with  a  white  feather  in  it,  looking  on.  In 
the  left-hand  corner  of  the  picture  is  a  most  accidental 
accessory.  A  sweet  child,  in  a  short  white  tunic  and  red 
sash,  is  seated  on  a  green  cloth  on  the  floor  taking  his 
simple  supper  of  bread  and  cherries,  and  a  little  wine, 
which  lies  beside  him  on  a  ledge.  Having  ended  his  meal, 
he  is  holding  out  a  bunch  of  cherries  with  charming  naivete* 
to  a  little  white  dog,  who  naturally  rejects  the  offering, 
with  a  look  of  offended  dignity.  This  would  make  an 
innocent  little  picture  by  itself,  but  is  singularly  out  of 
place  in  a  serious  endeavour  to  bring  before  us  the  scene 
of  that  solemn  eventide. 

Moretto's  Supper  at  Emmaus  is  a  fresco  in  the  Tosi  col- 
lection at  Brescia.  In  this  picture  the  Christ  wears  a  pil- 
grim's hat  of  grey,  and  a  cockle  shell,  of  which  the  brim 
shades  His  forehead.  There  is  a  look  of  amazement  on 
the  features  of  the  disciples,  as  He  breaks  the  bread.  One 
of  them,  leaning  his  head  on  his  hand,  gazes  intently  into 
the  Saviour's  face,  which  is  calm  and  lofty  in  expression. 
An  indescribable  flash  of  recognition  is  beginning  to  break 
over  the  countenance  of  the  other.  A  girl  carries  a  dish, 
and  the  host  is  going  down  a  flight  of  steps.  A  cat  sits 
under  the  table. 

In  Titian's  Supper  at  Emmaus  there  is  little  to  teach  or 
elevate  us.  We  are  chiefly  interested  in  the  tradition 
that  the  disciple  on  the  right,  with  the  pilgrim's  hat,  is  said 
to  be  a  portrait  of  Cardinal  Ximenes ;  the  other,  of  Ferdi- 
nand the  Catholic  ;  the  host,  of  Charles  V. ;  and  the  page, 
of  Philip  II. 

Romanino's  picture  of  the  Disciples  at  Emmaus  hangs 
close  beside  that  of  Moretto.  Except  the  two  disciples 


450  THE  LIFE  OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

on  whose  faces  the  gleam  of  recognition  has  just  begun 
to  dawn,  no  one  is  present  but  the  youth  who  is  serving. 
He  wears  a  crimson  cap  with  a  white  feather,  and  there 
is  a  touch  of  Romanino's  fantastic  cleverness  in  the  way 
in  which  —  conscious  that  something  is  taking  place  —  the 
boy  turns  half  round  to  look  at  Christ  with  a  corner  of  his 
eye.  In  a  coigne  of  vantage  in  the  humble  room  a  swal- 
low is  sitting  on  her  nest.  A  simple  pitcher  and  cup 
stand  at  the  left-hand  corner.  Only  at  Brescia  can  one 
form  an  adequate  estimate  of  the  two  glorious  painters, 
Moretto  and  Romanino.  Of  the  two,  Romanino  had 
more  fascination  and  superficial  cleverness  but  in  deeper 
qualities  he  was  no  match  for  his  friendly  rival  in  their 
"  gay  duel  of  Art." 

Caravaggio's  treatment  of  this  subject  is  a  specimen 
of  the  coarsest  and  most  vulgar  realism.  There  is  not 
a  touch  of  sacredness  or  devotion  about  it.  The  thing 
we  first  notice  is  the  obtrusive  roast  chicken  on  the  table. 
Caravaggio  —  "the  ruffian  Caravaggio,"  as  Mr.  Ruskin 
calls  him  —  is  the  Zola  of  decadent  Art.1 

1  Symonds,  Benaissance,  VII.  389.  In  the  National  Gallery  is  a 
picture  by  Altobello  Melone  (a  Cremonese  painter),  of  Christ  walking 
with  the  disciples  on  the  road  to  Emmaus.  The  subject  was  painted  by 
Titian,  1547.  There  is  a  picture  of  it  by  Rembrandt  at  the  Louvre, 
and  by  Rubens  at  Madrid. 


IV. 

THE   INCREDULITY   OF   ST.    THOMAS. 

Mr;  yivov  AirurTos  dXXd  irio"r6s. — JOHN  xx.  27. 

THE  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas  forms  the  subject  of 
a  superb  group  in  bronze,  by  Andrea  Verrocchio,  in  the 
Church  of  San  Michele,  Florence.  The  majestic  Risen 
Saviour  is  drawing  aside  His  robe  with  His  left  hand, 
while  He  raises  His  right  arm  in  appeal.  The  Apostle, 
a  very  noble  figure,  gazes  at  the  wound  in  the  side  with 
deep  reverence,  and  holds  back  the  robe  with  his  right 
hand,  that  he  may  see  it  clearly. 

Duccio's  painting  of  the  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas  in 
Siena,  is  astonishingly  fine  and  beautiful.  "The  way  in 
which  he  expresses  the  doubt  and  hesitation  of  Thomas," 
says  Mr.  Cole,  "  is  something  wonderful.  Notice  his 
wavering  action  —  how  the  left  foot  goes  forward  as  he 
goes  towards  the  wall ;  his  timidity  as  he  dares  to  put  his 
finger  into  the  wound  of  Christ.  Then  look  at  Christ, 
His  calm  dignity  and  mild,  reproving  manner,  His  sweetly 
benignant  aspect,  and  the  majesty  of  His  figure  with  the 
arm  uplifted.  There  is  a  gentle,  kind,  pitiful  look  in  His 
face."  The  folds  of  the  dress  are  illuminated  by  lines 
of  gold  by  Duccio,  in  the  Byzantine  manner,  but  only 
after  the  Resurrection,  as  though  to  indicate  His  glorified 
body.1 

Cima  da  Conegliano's  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas  in  our 
Gallery  (No.  816),  is  a  composition  of  twelve  figures 

1  It  is  beautifully  reproduced  by  Mr.  Cole  in  Stedman's  Old  Italian 
Masters,  p.  21. 

451 


452  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

painted  in  1504  as  an  altarpiece  for  a  church  near  Coneg- 
liano.  It  has  the  serious  dignity  and  expressiveness 
which  mark  Cima's  other  works.  He  has  another  picture 
of  this  subject  in  the  Academy  of  Venice. 

There  is  a  painting  of  the  scene  by  Paolo  Cavazzola,  a 
pupil  of  Morone,  in  the  Gallery  at  Verona  which  lias  con- 
siderable merit.  The  Christ  carries  the  Resurrection  flag, 
and  is  gentle  and  dignified.  The  Apostle  kneels  in  rever- 
ence, and  while  he  gazes  earnestly  on  the  wound  in  the 
side,  which  he  timidly  touches,  his  left  hand  is  opened 
in  astonishment.  On  one  side,  in  the  distance,  is  the 
Ascension ;  on  the  other,  the  Descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
The  scene  has  also  been  handled  by  Rembrandt,  Guercino, 
and  Overbeck.1 

1  St.  Thomas  is  frequently  introduced  in  Assumptions  of  the  Virgin. 
She  was  supposed  to  have  presented  to  him  her  girdle. 


V. 

THE   ASCENSION. 

"  Sicut  umbra,  sicut  fumus, 
Sicut  f oenum  facti  sumus  : 
Miserere  Rex  ccelorum, 
Miserere  miserorum." 

—  MARBOD. 

I  SHOULD  rank  "The  Ascension"  among  the  subjects 
which  it  would  have  been  much  wiser  to  leave  unpainted, 
or,  at  any  rate,  to  paint  only  in  a  purely  symbolic  manner. 

I  do  not  think  that  there  is  anything  in  the  Gospels 
which  sanctions  the  conception  that  Christ  rose  before  the 
eyes  of  the  Apostles  slowly  and  visibly  through  the  air,  or 
through  the  clouds.  If  He  did  so,  it  is  at  any  rate  certain 
that  neither  the  Evangelists  nor  the  Apostles  say  one 
word  which  justifies  our  imaginations  in  dwelling  on  the 
physical  details  of  the  occurrence. 

It  is  not  even  mentioned  by  St.  Matthew. 

In  the  Gospel  of  St.  Mark  it  is  only  referred  to  in  the 
words,  "He  was  taken  into  heaven"  (aveX?^^  et<?  rov 
ovpavov).  This  single  phrase  occurs  in  the  last  twelve 
verses  (Mark  xvi.  9-20),  which,  though  canonical,  are  of 
dubious  authenticity,  and  have  recently  been  assigned, 
with  strong  probability,  to  Aristion.  But  here,  while  the 
great  Christian  verity  is  stated  that  Christ  —  using  such 
language  as  alone  our  infirmity  can  apprehend  —  was 
"taken  up  into  heaven,"  it  is  not  said  that  the  Apostles 
watched  the  visible  ascent.  Nor,  again,  is  this  stated  by 
St.  Luke ;  on  the  contrary,  he  seems  most  distinctly  to 
imply  that  the  Ascension  of  the  glorified  body  was  not 
actually  witnessed  by  the  Apostles,  for  he  says  (xxiv.  50) 

453 


454  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

that  Jesus  led  them  out  as  far  as  towards  Bethany,  and 
there  lifted  up  His  hands  and  blessed  them,  and  in  the 
act  of  blessing  them  stood  apart  from  them  (Ste'crr??  air 
avT&v),  The  following  words,  "and  was  carried  up  into 
heaven,"  are  omitted  in  some  manuscripts  so  ancient  as  the 
Siiiaitic  and  the  Codex  Bezse,  and  are  regarded  as  an  in- 
terpolation by  Griesbach  and  Tischendorf.  But  while  the 
fact  of  His  evanishment  was  certain,  and  they  stood  gazing 
into  heaven  during  His  passage  thither,  St.  Luke  describes 
the  event  itself  as  instantaneous  (Acts  i.  9,  eV^pfl??), 
and  tells  us  that  "a  cloud  at  once  received  Him 
(uTre'XaySey)  from  their  eyes."  It  is  doubtful,  therefore, 
whether  the  Scripture  indications  of  the  manner,  apart 
from  the  fact,  of  Christ's  Ascension,  warrant  its  material 
delineation  otherwise  than  by  such  symbols  and  emblems 
as  those  used  by  the  early  Christians  in  the  Catacombs. 

The  Ascension  was  painted  by  Giotto  in  the  Arena 
Chapel,  and  by  Correggio  in  the  Church  of  S.  Giovanni 
Evangelista  at  Parma. 

The  famous  Ascension  by  Perugino  is  at  Lyons.  The 
chief  peculiarity  is  that  the  ascending  figure  of  Christ  is 
encircled  by  a  wreath  of  cherub-heads.  When  painters 
began  to  handle  the  subject  at  all,  they  were  naturally 
led  to  surround  it  with  the  minstrelsies  and  ministrations 
of  angels,  although  the  Scriptures,  which  tell  us  how  the 
denizens  of  heaven  sang  at  His  birth,  do  not  tell  us  that 
they  were  seen  around  Him  by  mortal  eyes,  or  heard  by 
human  ears,  as  the  everlasting  doors  lifted  up  their  heads 
to  let  the  King  of  Glory  in. 

Tintoret's  Ascension  in  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco  is  as 
little  satisfactory  as  those  of  others.  The  figure  of  Christ 
is  entirely  inadequate.  He  is  supported  by  angels  in  the 
air,  but  Tintoret  seems  to  have  been  more  occupied  in 
the  various  details  of  his  picture  than  in  the  truths  which 
he  meant  to  indicate. 

We  have  no  painting  of  the  Ascension  in  the  National 
Gallery.  It  is  not  by  any  means  one  of  the  more  frequent 


THE   ASCENSION.  455 

subjects.  Rosini,  among  the  numerous  illustrations  in  his 
six  volumes  of  the  Storia  della  Pittura  Italiana,  does  not 
give  us  a  single  specimen.  Even  the  irreverent  familiari- 
ties of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  were  awed 
by  this  transcendent  mystery,  which  gave  them  no  scope 
for  the  vulgar  realism  in  which  too  many  of  them  so 
greatly  delighted. 

The  main  thought  involved  for  Christians  in  the  Ascen- 
sion is,  that  Christ  has  forever  taken  into  the  Godhead 
the  form  of  Manhood,  there  to  remain  in  the  heavens 
through  all  eternity,  to  make  intercession  for  us. 

'Tis  the  weakness  in  strength  that  I  cry  for !  my  flesh  that  I  seek 

In  the  Godhead !     I  seek  and  I  find  it !     Oh  Saul,  it  shall  be 

A  Face  like  my  face  that  receives  thee ;  a  Man  like  to  me 

Thou  shalt  love,  and  be  loved  by  for  ever  ;  a  Hand  like  this  hand 

Shall  throw  open  the  gate  of  new  Life  to  thee  !     See  the  Christ  stand! 


BOOK  XII. 

THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 


'  Judicabit  omnes  gentes, 
Et  salvabit  innocentes. 
Dies  ilia,  dies  vitae, 
Dies  lucis  inauditae, 
Qua  nox  omnis  destruetur, 
Et  mors  ipsa  morietur  !  " 

—  S.  PETR.  DAMIANI. 


THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 

"  Oh  thoughts  that  tempt  us,  idle,  sweet,  and  vain, 
Where  are  ye  when  a  double  death  draws  near, 
One  sure,  one  threatening,  an  eternal  loss  ?  " 

—  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

"  Multitudes  —  multitudes  —  stood  up  in  bliss, 
Made  equal  to  the  angels,  glorious,  fair, 
With  harps,  palms,  wedding  garments,  kiss  of  peace, 
And  crowns  of  haloed  hair. 

"  Glory  touched  glory  on  each  blessed  head, 
Hands  locked  dear  hands  never  to  sunder  more ; 
These  were  the  new-begotten  from  the  dead, 
Whom  the  great  Birthday  bore." 

—  CHRISTINA  ROSSETTI. 


ORCAGNA  AND   OTHERS. 

"  THE  Last  Judgment "  was  a  subject  which,  more  than 
any  other,  tested  the  highest  powers  of  a  painter's  imagina- 
tion. But  for  well-understood  traditional  elements  of 
treatment,  fe\v  would  have  had  the  courage  to  attempt  it 
at  all.  Their  attempts  are  largely  influenced  by  theolog- 
ical prepossessions,  and  of  these,  many  are  partial  and 
erroneous.  They  obscure,  rather  than  illustrate,  any  imag- 
inative effort  to  realize  that  tremendous  scene.  The  great 
painting  of  the  Last  Judgment  by  Orcagna  (f  1385)  in  the 
Campo  Santo,  still  continues  to  be  one  of  the  most  memo- 
rable forms  in  which  the  subject  has  been  treated.  It  exer- 
cised a  deep  influence  over  the  thoughts  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  It  is,  in  reality,  a  pitiless,  concrete  illustration  of 
the  terrible  words,  "  too  late."  In  this  respect  —  in  the 

459 


460  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

total  alienation  of  Christ's  attention  from  the  Blessed  to 
the  Lost — it  is  more  severe  than  the  Last  Judgment  of 
Giotto  in  Sta  Maria  Novella,  and  diverges  for  the  worse 
from  the  old  Byzantine  pictures  in  the  Cathedral  of  Tor- 
cello,  as  well  as  from  the  Byzantine  Manual  of  Panselinos, 
written  for  the  painters  of  Mount  Athos.  It  shows  the 
gradual  triumph  of  terror  and  of  gloom.1 

At  the  top  of  the  picture,  in  separate  mandorlas  of 
glory,  and  with  nimbuses  which  flash  on  every  side,  are 
seated  Christ  and  the  Virgin.  The  Virgin  wears  a  regal 
crown,  under  which  flows  the  veil  which  shrouds  her  hair 
and  encloses  her  features.  Her  left  hand  is  laid  upon  her 
breast,  her  expression  is  one  of  deep  sorrow  as  with  half- 
averted  glance  she  looks  downward  towards  the  lost. 
Christ,  in  splendid  regal  adornment,  and  with  His  brows 
encircled  by  a  crown-tiara,  uplifts  His  right  hand  in  a 
gesture  of  condemnation,  while  His  left  hand  points  to 
His  wounded  side.  His  expression  is  stern.  On  either 
side  fly  three  angels  carrying  the  cross,  the  scourges,  the 
crown  of  thorns,  and  the  other  instruments  of  the  Passion. 
Beneath,  in  two  rows,  sit  the  Twelve  Apostles,  St.  Peter 
with  his  keys  being  immediately  at  the  Virgin's  right.2 

Immediately  beneath  the  Divine  aureoles  is  a  mighty 
angel  who  holds  in  either  hand  a  scroll,  inscribed  with 
Venite  Benedicti  Patris,  and  Ite  Maledicti.  On  either  side 
of  him  is  an  angel  with  a  long  trumpet,  and  another  is 
seated  on  the  clouds  at  his  feet.  He  seems  to  have  just 
turned  his  back  upon  the  lost,  and  has  half  hidden  his  face 
with  his  hand  as  he  shrinks  from  the  frightful  spectacle. 
These  angels  by  their  position  form  a  cross  in  heaven. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  picture  in  five  rows,  one  beneath 
the  other,  are  the  ranks  of  the  Blessed,  among  whom  are 

1  See  E.  Dobbert  (in  Dohme's  Series)  ;  Orcagna,  p.  73.     Forster  and 
others  express  doubts  as  to  this  being  the  actual  work  of  Orcagna. 

2  The  arrangement  was  more  or  less  borrowed  by  Fra  Bartolommeo 
and  Raphael.    The  gesture  of  Christ,  but  with  less  of  menace,  and  the 
attitude  of  the  Virgin,  are  copied  by  Fra  Angelico,  and  with  exaggerated 
violence  by  Michael  Angelo. 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  461 

human   beings    of   all    conditions,   kings,   popes,   bishops, 
monks,  nuns,  burghers,  old  and  young. 

On  the  other  side  are  the  lost  who  are  being  driven  and 
pushed  by  ruthless  angels,  with  gestures  of  violence  and 
scorn,  into  the  flames  which  burst  from  the  mountain 
side  of  hell.  Just  above  their  heads  a  devilish  monster  is 
breathing  fire.  From  out  of  the  flames  come  the  hands 
and  crooks  of  demons.  A  queen  tries  to  free  her  robes 
from  the  clutch  of  a  younger  female  who  is  clinging  to 
her,  but  the  fierce  grasp  of  the  evil  spirits  plucks  her 
back.  Next  to  her  another  queen  is  wringing  her  hands. 
A  nun  veils  her  shamed  face  with  both  palms.  Many  ex- 
press their  utter  despair  by  look  and  action.  Some  glance 
back  with  fruitless  repentance. 

Under  the  four  central  angels  stands  the  Archangel 
Michael  with  his  sword.  By  a  sweep  of  his  arm  he  points 
out  to  another  angel  that  the  youth  whom  he  is  holding 
by  the  hand  is  to  be  led  into  the  ranks  of  the  saved. 
Opposite,  a  monk  has  tried  to  join  the  blessed  ones,  but  an 
angel  drags  him  by  the  hair  of  the  head  towards  the  jaws 
of  hell.  Between  these  groups,  in  the  hindmost  of  the 
long  lines  of  symmetrical  graves,  rises  the  figure  of  King 
Solomon,  and  he  seems  not  a  little  uncertain  whether  he 
belongs  to  those  on  the  Saviour's  right  or  those  on  the 
left ;  for  the  Middle  Ages  were  familiar  with  the  discus- 
sion whether  the  wise  King  was  saved  or  lost.  Dante, 
indeed,  places  him  in  glory,  but  others  looked  upon  his 
salvation  as  highly  dubious. 

One  side  of  the  picture  is  occupied  by  the  monstrous 
hell  of  mediseval  fancy.  It  is  represented  in  all  its  cruel 
and  brutal  realism,  a  slaughter-house  of  everlasting  vivi- 
section, a  reeking  hot-bed  of  abhorrent  atrocities,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word  revolting  and  abominable.  Dante,  by 
his  Inferno,  meant,  not  to  paint  a  realistic  picture  of  the 
actual,  but  (as  he  himself  explained  it  to  us)  to  picture 
the  inherent  nature  of  sin  as  it  is.  Orcagna  takes  all 
the  horrors  of  hell  in  their  most  literal  sense  of  physical 


462  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

and  endless  torture,  and  paints  Lucifer  in  the  midst  as  a 
grotesquely  execrable  monster,  breathing  flame  from  every 
limb.  The  place  which  would  have  been  occupied  by  the 
corresponding  Paradise  is  now  rilled  by  the  scenes  from 
the  Lives  of  the  Hermits.  Otherwise  the  Carnpo  Santo 
would  have  presented  us  the  "  four  last  things  "  —  Death, 
Judgment,  Hell,  and  Paradise. 

In  the  now  destroyed  pictures  in  Sta  Croce  many  of  the 
figures  were,  according  to  Vasari,  portraits.  Orcagna 
dealt  with  his  contemporaries  as  Dante  did  with  his.  He 
put  Clement  VI.  and  the  Physician  Dino  del  Garbo  in 
Paradise.  He  thrust  into  Hell  some  of  his  enemies,  and 
the  legal  personages  who  had  taken  part  against  him  in  a 
trial.  Orcagna  painted  the  same  subject  in  the  Strozzi 
Chapel  of  Sta  Maria  Novella. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  Giotto's  Last  Judgment  (A.D. 
1305)  in  the  Arena  Chapel.  Fra  Angelico  painted  the 
Last  Judgment  more  than  once.  As  always,  he  failed  in 
grandeur,  but  he  excelled  all  in  infinite  sweetness.  No 
one  has  ever  equalled  the  "  soft,  angelic  tenderness  "  and 
the  ineffable  bliss  of  the  beatific  vision,  which  breathes  in 
the  faces  of  the  elect  to  whom  his  own  soul  was  akin. 
His  Last  Judgment  in  the  Academy  at  Florence  is,  as  Rio 
truly  says,  the  work  of  one  who  began  as  a  miniaturist, 
and  "  the  almost  imperceptible  angels  which  float  around 
the  Saviour  are  far  superior,  as  regards  finish  and  execu- 
tion, to  the  Prophets  and  Apostles."  Angelico  had  been 
influenced  by  the  mighty  work  of  Orcagna.  He  borrows 
the  incident  of  the  hypocrite  being  dragged  by  an  angel 
out  of  the  ranks  of  the  blessed.  But  his  nature  was 
gentler  than  his  theology.  He  cannot  paint  a  wrathful 
Christ,  though  no  one  could  paint  so  well  a  Christ  whose 
face  was  full  of  love  as  is  the  charming  lunette  in  the 
Cloister  of  San  Marco  of  Christ  meeting  two  young 
Dominican  monks.  Nor  could  he  paint  the  torments  of 
the  damned,  or  the  hideousness  of  devils.  When  he 
attempts  it  he  becomes  childish  and  grotesque.  In  the 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  463 

Last  Judgment  of  the  Academy  he  left  his  brother 
Benedetto  to  paint  the  Inferno  of  the  Lost,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Canipo  Santo.  But,  as  Lord  Lindsay  says, 
"the  very  spirit  of  Paradise  illuminates  the  opposite  angle, 
where  the  elect  are  assembled  in  their  beatitude,  some 
basking,  as  it  were,  in  the  benign  glance  of  Christ "  —  for 
He  turns  to  look  on  them  as  they  outstretch  towards  Him 
their  enraptured  gestures,  and  not  towards  the  cursed  — 
"  others  ascending,  heralded  by  angels,  who  weave  a  dance 
of  mystic  harmony  around  them,  towards  the  gates  of  the 
Celestial  City,  whence  a  flood  of  light  streams  down  upon 
them,  in  which  the  two  foremost,  floating  buoyantly  up- 
wards from  earth,  are  already  transfigured.  One  almost 
fancies  one  hears  'the  bells  ringing,  and  the  trumpets 
sounding  melodiously,  within  the  golden  gates,'  as  if 
Heaven  itself  were  coming  down  to  meet  them  in  the 
jubilee  of  welcome." 

Luca  Signorelli's  Last  Judgment  is  a  magnificent  work 
in  the  Cathedral  at  Orvieto.  In  skill  and  power  it  can 
hardly  be  surpassed,  and  it  evidently  exercised  considera- 
ble influence  over  Michael  Angelo.  In  the  sky  on  the 
right  stand  three  archangels,  of  whom  the  midmost  wears 
a  winged  helmet,  and  is  looking  down  with  a  gesture  of 
grief  and  repulsion  on  the  tangled  and  tumultuous  multi- 
tudes of  the  damned.  The  other  two  are  drawing  their 
swords,  and  have  so  terrified  a  demon  that  he  has  loosed 
his  hold  of  a  lost  spirit  who,  with  two  others,  is  tumbling 
headlong  downwards  in  attitudes  full  of  horror.  Midway 
in  the  sky  a  hideous  demon  has  seized  a  woman  whose 
dishevelled  hair  streams  on  the  wind,  towards  whom  he 
turns  with  an  execrably  gloating  look.  It  is  needless  to 
dwell  on  the  mighty  but  loathly  realism  of  the  manifold 
tortures  which  demons  are  inflicting  on  the  lost  below. 
Could  Signorelli,  could  any  human  being  keep  his  senses 
and  yet  believe  that  these  insufferable  horrors  of  cruelty 
could  be  inflicted,  and  could  go  on  forever  and  forever 
more,  and  yet  that  God  could  be  God?  Could  they 
believe  that  the  Lord  Christ  had  died  so  utterly  in  vain  ? 


464  THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IX   ART. 

Fra  Bartolommeo  painted  the  Last  Judgment  in  Sta 
Maria  Nuova  a  few  months  before  he  became  a  monk, 
(A.D.  1498). 1  Though  the  original  has  suffered,  and  the 
lower  part  of  the  picture  is  mainly  the  work  of  Mariotto 
Albertinelli,  it  is  full  of  interest,  dignity,  and  repose. 
Christ  occupies  the  centre  of  the  picture  at  the  top,  in  a 
glory  surrounded  by  Cherubim  and  Seraphim.  The  little 
angels  below  are  holding  the  minor  instruments  of  the 
passion,  but  in  perfect  gentleness,  and  not  as  though  they 
were  wrathfully  demanding  justice.  The  face  and  attitude 
of  the  Saviour,  though  stern,  is  yet  sad  and  pitiful.  The 
picture  derives  additional  interest  from  its  portrait  of  Fra 
Angelico,  who  is  at  Christ's  right  hand,  and  is  looking 
downward.  Christ  is  seated  on  the  clouds.  His  right 
hand  is  uplifted  ;  His  left  is  on  the  spear-wound  —  on  both 
hands  the  nail-prints  are  prominent.  Beneath  Him,  in  a 
nun-like  dress,  with  hands  folded  in  prayer,  sits  the  Virgin, 
and  on  either  side  in  calm  majesty  the  Twelve  Apostles, 
of  whom  St.  Peter,  the  most  prominent,  is  gazing  down- 
ward with  compassion.  Underneath  the  Saviour  is  a  great 
angel  with  the  cross,  the  lance,  and  the  crown  of  thorns. 
In  the  lower  part  of  the  picture  the  Archangel  Michael 
with  his  sword  separates  the  Risen  Just  from  the  Lost. 
The  dignity  and  repose  of  the  picture  offers  a  singular 
contrast  to  the  tumultuous  fury  of  that  of  Michael  Angelo, 
but  produces  a  far  deeper  and  holier  effect  upon  the  mind. 


II. 
MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

"  Ma  e  terribile,  come  tu  vedi,  non  si  pol  praticar  con  lui."  Pope 
Julius  II.  of  Michael  Angelo  (quoted  in  the  letter  of  Sebastian  del 
Piombo  to  Michael  Angelo,  October  15,  1512). 

When  we  speak  of  the  Last  Judgment  in  Art,  our 
thoughts  can  never  be  far  distant  from  the  stupendous 

1  Woltmann  and  Woermann,  II.  232. 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT. 


465 


work  of  Michael  Angelo  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  (A.D. 
1541).  In  its  present  condition,  defaced  by  repainting, 
and  blackened  by  the  smoke  of  candles  and  incense,  and 
the  accumulated  dust  of  more  than  three  centuries,  it  is 
very  difficult  to  judge  of  it  as  a  painting.  But  its  whole 


The  Last  Judgment.    (Michael  Angelo.) 

idea  is  but  too  easily  understood,  and  it  may  be  well 
studied  in  detail  in  a  fine  reduced  ancient  copy  of  it  by 
Marcello  Venusti,  now  in  the  Museo  Borbonico  at  Naples.1 

1  On  this  great  work,  see  Anton  Springer  (Dohme,  II.  421-432)  ;  Lord 
Lindsay,  III.  139-146  ;  Lanzi,  I.  141. 


466  THE   LIFE   OF  CHRIST   IX   ART. 

Into  this  picture  the  mighty  painter  poured  all  the 
strength,  despair,  and  agitation  of  his  troubled  soul,  and 
there  are  in  existence  more  than  fifty  sketches  and  de- 
signs in  pen  and  ink,  and  in  crayon  and  red  chalk,  which 
are  obvious  studies  for  the  composition  and  its  details. 
It  occupied  eight  years  in  its  completion,  and  was  unveiled 
by  Michael  Angelo  —  not  very  appropriately  —  on  Christ- 
mas Day,  1541,  "for  the  amazement  of  Rome  and  the 
world.""  1  Yet  even  in  the  painter's  lifetime  it  was  re- 
morselessly handled.  During  its  progress  the  Papal  Master 
of  the  Ceremonies,  Biagio  da  Cesena,  expressed  the  opinion 
of  many  of  the  "  unco  guid  "  when  he  described  it  as  more 
fit  for  a  pothouse  than  for  a  Chapel,  and  Michael  Angelo, 
like  Leonardo  da  Vinci  in  his  Last  Supper,  is  said  to  have 
taken  a  somewhat  ignoble  revenge,  by  introducing  the 
likeness  of  Biagio  in  the  half-Pagan  figure  of  Minos. 
Less  sincere,  and  springing  from  baser  motives  than  the 
criticism  of  Biagio,  was  that  of  the  shameless  Pietro 
Aretino.  Before  he  had  seen  the  picture  he  had  the 
impudence  to  write  to  Michael  Angelo  his  conception 
of  what  it  was,  or  should  be,  in  hollow  and  pompous 
rhetoric ;  and  he  did  this  that  he  might  play  upon  the 
painter's  good  nature,  and  get  a  picture  out  of  him,  as 
he  had  done  from  Titian  and  many  other  artists.  But 
Michael  Angelo  probably  saw  through  him,  and  at  any 
rate  only  paid  him  back  in  his  own  tinsel-clink  of  compli- 
ments, through  which  the  cunning  sycophant  probably 
read  the  underlying  scorn.  "Why,"  he  asked,  "do  you 
not  reward  my  attachment  with  some  fragment  of  the 
leaves  to  which  you  attach  little  value?  I  value  two 
strokes  of  yours  with  charcoal  on  paper  more  highly  than 
all  the  goblets  and  chains  with  which  any  Prince  has 
honoured  me."  For  some  years,  Aretino,  vainly  hoping 
for  a  present,  continued  to  praise  "the  divine  Michael 
Angelo "  and  the  Last  Judgment,  but  when  he  found 

1  Three  frescoes  of  Perugino,  and  two  lunettes  by  Michael   Angelo 
himself,  were  destroyed  to  make  room  for  it. 


THE   LAST   JUDGMENT.  467 

that  little  or  nothing  was  to  be  got  out  of  him,  he  wrote 
him  an  abusive  and  dictatorial  letter,  pretending  to  blush 
at  the  nudities  of  the  picture  as  though  they  would  have 
been  a  discredit  even  to  a  Pagan.  He  told  him  that  his 
picture  would  have  been  more  suitable  for  a  public  bath. 
In  another  letter  he  hinted  that  such  a  picture  could  only 
have  risen  from  secret  inclinations  to  the  heresy  of  the 
Lutherans ;  and  this  insinuation,  through  his  influence, 
found  its  way  into  Ludovico  Dolce's  dialogue  on  Art, 
written  to  exalt  Titian. 

Paul  IX.,  the  narrow-minded  Caraffa  Pope  who  headed 
the  Catholic  Revival,  also  took  alarm,  and  was  only  pre- 
vented from  destroying  the  whole  picture  by  the  influence 
of  Cardinals  and  artists.  "  Tell  his  holiness,"  said  Michael 
Angelo,  "  that  this  is  a  small  matter,  easily  mended.  Let 
him  amend  the  world;  pictures  can  be  easily  amended." 
To  Daniele  da  Volterra  was  assigned  the  thankless  task  of 
adding  draperies  to  Michael  Angelo's  figures,  and  repaint- 
ing St.  Catherine  and  St.  Blaise.  Hence,  among  his  witty 
countrymen,  Daniele  got  his  nickname  of  II  brachettone, 
"  the  breeches-maker." 

And  yet  —  without  any  Philistinism  —  there  is  surely 
much  to  regret  in  this  vast  picture.  Its  effect  on  Art, 
which  it  misled  into  violent  exaggerations  of  tempestuous 
passions  and  foreshortened  nudity,  was  ruinously  evil.1 

It  reveals  the  grim  earnestness  and  sense  of  horror  in 
the  painter's  soul,  and  shews  what  is  meant  when  artiste 
spoke  of  his  terribiltd.  It  is  the  tremenda  Dies  Judicii  — 
the  Dies  irce  —  Wrath  and  Terror  reign  throughout  it. 
The  angels  who  carry  the  instruments  of  the  cross  and 
passion  do  so  as  claimants  for  vengeance  ;  those  who  cower 
in  the  middle  of  the  picture  half  cover  their  faces  with 

1  The  nude  was  absolutely  forbidden  to  Spanish  painters.  Pacheco 
tells  a  story  of  a  Bishop  who  experienced  such  sensations  at  a  nude  figure 
in  a  Last  Judgment  of  Martin  de  Vos  (now  in  the  Museum  at  Seville),  that 
he  declared  he  would  rather  face  a  hurricane  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  than 
see  it  again  (Arte  de  la  Pintura,  201.  Sir  W.  Maxwell  Sterling,  I.  20). 


468  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

their  robes.  Vittoria  Colonna  —  whom  Angelo  loved  with 
so  romantic  and  platonic  an  attachment  —  defended  his 
standpoint  by  speaking  of  the  Two  Future  Advents  of 
Christ  —  of  which  one  should  be  an  Advent  of  Love,  the 
other  of  Wrath,  when  the  time  for  compassion  should  be 
no  more.  But  defend  the  picture  as  we  will,  —  and  making 
every  possible  allowance  for  the  standpoint  of  the  painter 
and  of  the  age,  and  of  traditional  Catholicism  as  reflected 
on  the  canvas  of  many  previous  artists,1  and  centuries  ear- 
lier in  the  Inferno  of  Dante,  —  surely  there  was  in  this 
picture  very  much  to  be  deplored. 

Let  us  try  briefly  to  describe  it. 

It  brings  together  in  one  scene  all  the  Last  Things. 

The  Apostles,  seated  on  the  clouds,  sit  like  the  choir  of 
some  dread  tragedy,  in  symmetrical  rows  on  either  side, 
they  alone  undisturbed  by  the  awful  tumult.2  The  angels, 
with  their  trumpets,  are  waking  the  dead  to  judgment, 
and  the  good  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  the  just  made 
perfect,  take  part  in  the  scene  as  well  as  the  demons  and 
the  lost.  The  nudity  of  the  figures  bringing  the  bodies 
more  into  prominence  than  the  heads,  and  the  expression 
of  the  faces,  adds  to  the  weird  and  sculpturesque  effect. 

Christ,  as  Judge,  is  the  central  point  of  the  picture. 
But  what  a  Christ!  A  nude,  wrathful  Giant,  without 
one  touch  of  mercy  or  pity  in  Him !  His  attitude  is  bor- 
rowed from  Orcagna,  but,  whereas,  in  Orcagna,  He  shows 
His  bleeding  hand,  and  points  to  His  wounded  side,  here 

1  Anton  Springer  (in  Dohme's  Kunst  und  K'unstler,  II.  424)  mentions 
the  work  of  an  eleventh  century  painter  in  the  Church  of  St.  Angelo  at 
Capua,  and  the  mosaic  of  Andrea  Tafi  in  the  Florence  Baptistery.    M. 
Angelo  had  been  also  preceded  by  Giotto  in  the  Arena  Chapel  ;  Orcagna 
in  the  Sta  Maria  Novella  of  Florence  and  in  the  Pisan  Campo  Santo  ; 
Fra  Angelico  frequently  (but,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  very  different  man- 
ner) ;  Fra  Bartolommeo  in  Sta  Maria  Nuova  ;  and  (not  to  mention  many 
others)  Luca  Signorelli  in  the  Cathedral  of  Orvieto.     Many  of  these  pic- 
tures Michael  Angelo  may  have  seen,  and  he  certainly  had  seen  that  in 
the  Campo  Santo. 

2  See  Springer,  I.  c.  425,  599. 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  469 

He  looks  down  upon  the  damned  —  whom  He  is  hurling 
into  darkness  as  a  crushed,  agonized,  demon-tortured 
rain-storm  of  ruined  humanity  —  with  His  left  hand 
pointed  indeed  towards  the  spear  wound,  but  assuming  at 
the  same  time  a  sweeping  gesture  of  inexorable  rejection. 
His  muscular  right  arm,  convulsed  with  passion,  is  up- 
lifted, as  though  at  once  to  drive  away  and  to  smite. 
He  is  just  rising  from  His  seat,  and  in  the  next  moment 
will  stand  terrifically  upright.  The  Virgin  —  one  of  the 
few  figures  which  is  not  nude  —  shrinks  terrified  under 
the  protection  of  His  arm,  grasping  at  her  veil  as  though 
to  hide  features  which  are  full  of  despair  and  anguish, 
and  seeming  to  shrink  into  herself  and  turn  away  from 
the  dreadful  scene. 

Upon  the  clouds  immediately  beneath  the  feet  of  Christ, 
are  St.  Laurence,  with  his  gridiron,  looking  utterly  afraid, 
and  St.  Bartholomew  shewing  to  Christ  the  knife  of  his 
martyrdom,  and  hideously  holding  in  his  left  hand  his 
own  skin  —  head  and  all.  The  emblems  of  their  murder, 
like  those  of  Christ's  Crucifixion,  are  not  appeals  for 
mercy,  but  for  vengeance,  as  are  the  emblems  of  martyr- 
dom displayed  also  by  St.  Catherine,  St.  Blaise,  and  other 
saints. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  all  the  mighty  episodes  with 
which  the  rest  of  the  picture  abounds.  Even  the  blessed, 
instead  of  rising  with  the  peace  which  Fra  Angelico  knew 
so  well  how  to  paint,  are  swept  away  by  a  stormy  emotion. 
Adam  looks  at  Christ  in  awestruck  alarm,  and  Eve  half 
shrinks  behind  him  in  despair. 

One  maiden,  though  she  rises  into  heaven's  bliss,  is  so 
terrified  at  the  hurricane  of  wrath  that  she  hides  her  face 
in  her  mother's  breast.  The  saved  are  on  the  right  of  the 
Seven  Angels  of  Judgment  with  their  trumpets,  and  the 
damned  upon  the  left.  Very  frightful  are  the  bestial 
demons  who  drag  their  prey  into  hell.  The  lost  express 
their  despair  and  anguish  by  every  conceivable  attitude  and 
expression,  covering  their  faces,  wringing  their  hands, 


470  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

cowering  and  crouching  with  trembling  horror.  They 
are  hovering  in  two  groups,  of  which  the  one,  driven 
back  forcibly  by  fighting  angels  and  dragged  down- 
wards by  devils,  forms  a  grand  Titanic  scene.  Many  of 
them  are  being  hurled  head-downwards  into  the  abyss. 
There  is  a  deep  lesson  in  one  mighty  figure.  A  powerful 
demon  has  grasped  him  by  the  legs  and  is  bearing  him  to 
Acheron,  while  another  drives  into  his  thigh  his  fearful 
serpent-fangs ;  but  the  lost  wretch  heeds  not  and  feels  not 
the  physical  anguish.  His  shoulders  are  raised,  his  head 
is  sunk  on  his  hand  in  a  despair  which  is  more  overwhelm- 
ing than  pain  or  horror. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  picture  we  see  on  one  side  the  re- 
surrection of  the  dead  in  its  most  materialized  conception. 
On  the  other  side  is  Acheron  and  the  under-world.  The 
demons  are  tormenting  their  victims,  and  the  awful  figure 
of  the  demon  Charon,  with  his  blazing  eyes,  long  ears,  and 
taloned  feet,  is  beating,  with  his  upraised  oar,  the  crowded 
masses  of  his  miserable  passengers,  at  whom  devils  are 
hacking,  in  their  eagerness  to  begin  the  hellish  orgy  of 
never-ending  vivisection.  At  the  corner  of  the  picture  is 
Minos,  who,  as  in  Dante,  has  a  serpent's  tail,  and  is  sur- 
rounded by  devils  unsurpassed  in  hatefulness.  It  is  the 
work  of  a  man  who  has  long  severed  himself  from  all 
ecclesiastical  types  of  ordinary  religious  feeling,  and  who 
only  revels  in  the  Promethean  pleasure  of  calling  into 
existence  all  the  capabilities  of  movement,  position,  fore- 
shortening, and  grouping  of  the  human  form.  Everything 
is  sacrificed  to  the  exigencies  of  the  nude. 

Such  is  this  colossal,  stupendous,  but  almost  revolting 
picture,  —  shall  we  say  a  fearful  poem,  or  a  horrible  night- 
mare in  colour  ?  It  is  a  work  of  genius  as  great  in  its 
way  as  Dante's  Inferno,  but  without  Dante's  lofty  and 
noble  elements ;  and,  unlike  Dante,  Michael  Angelo  either 
conveys  no  lesson  at  all,  or  only  a  lesson  which  we  repu- 
diate with  amazed  disgust.  Michael  Angelo  was  a  poet, 
and  could  pour  forth  his  burning  passion  of  platonic  love 


THE  LAST  JUDGMENT.  471 

for  a  Vittoria  Colonna  or  a  Tommaso  de'  Cavalieri,  but 
his  poetry  in  this  picture  is  the  poetry  as  of  a  midnight 
thunder-storm,  in  which  there  are  no  elements  of  loveli- 
ness, but  only  of  fright  and  ruin. 

"  Tell  him,"  —  such  was  the  message  which  he  scorn- 
fully sent  to  the  Duke  of  Urbino,  who  had  accused  him  of 
falsehood  and  dishonesty,  —  "  tell  him  that  he  has  fash- 
ioned a  Michael  Angelo  out  of  the  materials  he  found  in 
his  own  heart."  Alas !  the  mighty  artist  has  also  fash- 
ioned himself  out  of  some  of  the  darkest  and  stormiest 
elements  which  he  had  suffered  to  find  their  home  in  his 
own  perturbed  individuality. 

Lonely,  gloomy,  scornful,  wayward,  brooding  on  awful 
thoughts,  lacerated  by  an  ever  present  sense  of  indignation, 
Michael  Angelo  was  what  the  religion  of  his  age,  together 
with  abhorrence  of  its  baseness  and  frivolity,  had  made 
him.  Everything  which  he  did,  and  said,  and  wrote,  and 
created,  shews  his  storm-swept  spirit.  In  many  respects 
he  resembles  Dante  in  his  haughty  bitterness  and  sup- 
pressed intensity  of  passion,  but  he  lacked  the  radiance 
and  serenity  of  Dante's  happier  moods.  In  him  the 
carnality  and  classicism  of  the  Renaissance  were  strug- 
gling with  tremendous  moral  convictions  and  spiritual 
beliefs.  Circumstances  had  created  in  his  character  a 
morbid  element.  Poor,  yet  of  patrician  birth,  his  youth 
was  spent  in  a  city  distracted  by  political  turbulence  in  an 
epoch  of  moral  decadence.  It  is  not  impossible  that  he, 
like  Byron,  may  have  been  morbidly  affected  by  the  per- 
sonal disfigurement  which  he  owed,  in  early  youth,  to  the 
brutal  fist  of  his  rival  Torregiano.  He  expresses  his  own 
character  in  the  famous  lines  on  his  statue  of  Night.1 

Caro  m'  e  il  sonno  e  piii  1'  esser  di  sasso, 
Mentre  che  il  danno  e  la  vergogna  dura, 
Xon  veder,  non  sentir  m'  e'  gran  ventura ; 
Pero  non  mi  destar  ;  deh,  parla  basso  ! 

1  Springer,  in  Dohme,  II.  460. 


472  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 

In  one  of  Sebastian  del  Piombo's  letters  he  tells  Michael 
Angelo  his  remark  to  the  Pope  Julius  II.,  that  he  (Sebas- 
tian) could  work  miracles  if  Buonarotti  helped  him.  "Of 
that  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  the  Pope.  "You  all  learnt  from 
him.  Look  at  the  work  of  Raphael,  who  no  sooner  saw 
Michael  Angelo  than  he  substituted  his  manner  for  that 
of  Perugino.  But  Michael  Angelo  is  an  awful  man,  and 
hard  to  deal  with,  as  you  know !  .  .  .  I  said,"  continues 
Sebastian,  "that  your  awfulness  (terribiltd}  did  no  harm 
to  any  one,  and  that  you  only  seemed  so  from  love  of  the 
great  work  you  had  in  hand ! "  We  are  sorry,  however, 
to  find  in  this  letter  strong  traces  of  artistic  jealousy.  It 
is  said  that  Angelo  once  saw  Raphael  and  his  gay  scholars 
trooping  up  the  steps  of  the  Vatican,  and  compared  them 
to  the  bailiff  and  his  myrmidons  going  to  seize  a  prisoner. 
"  There's  the  executioner ! "  said  Raphael,  pretending  to 
shrink  back.  It  is  characteristic  of  Michael  Angelo  that 
landscape  seems  to  have  had  no  interest  for  him.  It  has 
well  been  said  of  him  that  "  his  imagination  created  a  race 
of  beings  foreign  to  and  outside  nature,  and  if  Leonardo's 
landscape  seems  to  us  so  strange  that  it  might  belong 
to  another  planet,  so  most  certainly  might  we  think  of 
Buonarotti's  mighty  incarnations.  He  might  have  brought 
them,  shall  we  say  from  far-off,  solitary  Saturn,  reached 
by  him  alone  of  men,  a  dim,  enormous  world.  How  was 
it  possible  to  make  such  creatures  at  home  among  green 
fields,  trees,  rivers,  and  bridges  ?  He  never  attempted  it. 
In  the  Holy  Family,  of  the  Uffizi,  his  only  condescension 
of  the  kind,  there  is  something  of  a  landscape,  but  it 
is  depicted  in  simple  blues,  only  rock  and  soil,  hardly  so 
much  as  a  bush  —  just  air  and  solitude  !  "  l 

We  have  seen  that  Angelo's  character  had  points  of 
analogy  with  those  of  Dante  and  of  Byron.  In  many 
respects  also  he  resembled  Carlyle,  though  Carlyle  was 
incomparably  inferior  to  him  in  genius,  perhaps  also  in 
lofty  nobleness  of  character.  Just  as  Carlyle  could  hardly 

i  Gilbert,  p.  252. 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  473 

speak  of  servants  without  calling  them  sluts  or  flunkeys, 
or  worse,  so  Michael  Angelo,  worried  by  his  maids,  said, 
Sono  tutte  puttane  e  porche.  Yet  his  servant  Urbino  lived 
twenty-five  years  with  him,  and  Michael  Angelo  was 
almost  heartbroken  at  his  death.  He  seems  to  have  been 
very  fond  of  his  nephew,  but  wrote  him  intolerably  cross 
and  trying  letters,  and  on  one  occasion  thunders  at  him, 
"  Where  have  you  learnt  to  write  ?  The  mere  sight  of 
your  letters  gives  me  the  fever."  Like  Carlyle,  he  must 
have  been  "gey  ill  to  live  with."  He  found  it  very 
hard  to  keep  up  even  the  semblance  of  any  faith  in 
human  nature.  Donate  Gianotti  tells  us  how  on  one 
occasion  some  friends  met  him  coming  down  from  the 
Capitol,  and  as  they  walked  with  him  recited  some  pas- 
sages of  the  Divine  Comedy.  They  then  invited  him 
to  a  dinner,  after  which  there  was  to  be  dancing  and 
music.  "How  can  you  think  of  dancing?"  he  said. 
"  This  is  a  world  of  tears.  If  a  man  would  not  be  lost, 
instead  of  giving  himself  up  to  pleasure,  he  should  think 
of  death."  His  feelings  must  often  have  been  those  of 
Luther  in  his  early  period  of  "  Sturm  und  Drang."  Luther 
tells  us  how  on  one  occasion  he  perspired  at  every  pore, 
and  felt  almost  as  if  he  should  fall  down  dead  with  terror 
at  the  sight  of  the  Holy  Sacrament.  But  Dr.  Staupitz 
said  to  him,  "  Thy  thoughts  are  not  according  to  Christ. 
Christ  does  not  terrify ;  He  consoles."  "  Those  words," 
said  Luther,  "filled  me  with  joy,  and  were  a  great  relief 
to  my  mind."  If  those  words  could  have  come  home 
to  the  soul  of  Michael  Angelo,  he  would  never  have 
painted  the  Sistine  Last  Judgment.  But  there  was  no 
Staupitz  to  speak  them  to  him.  His  life  threw  him  into 
contact  with  a  furious  Pope  like  Julius  II.,  and  a  loathly 
libertine  like  Aretino,  who  walked  about  in  a  cloak  of 
infamy,  "doubly  lined  with  the  fox-fur  of  hypocrisy." 
"If  a  man's  religion  be  night,  where  is  the  day?"  "If 
God  is  a  bugbear,  what  is  life  ?  " 

All  Michael  Angelo's  paintings  are  the  grandiose  paint- 


474  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

ings  of  one  who  was  essentially  a  sculptor,  and  who  de- 
spised easel  pictures  as  only  fit  for  idle  people.  His 
genius  was  hardly  less  versatile  than  that  of  Leonardo, 
for  he  was  also  a  poet,  and  an  architect.  There  is  some- 
thing sublime  and  colossal  in  all  his  works.  His  awful 
statue  of  Moses  at  Rome,  and  his  tomb  of  Guiliano  de' 
Medici  at  Florence,  shew  the  supremest  grandeur  of 
which  sculpture  is  capable.  His  cartoon  of  Pisan  soldiers 
bathing  in  the  Arno  and  surprised  by  Florentines,  was 
painted  in  competition  with  Leonardo,  and  Vasari  calls  the 
two  cartoons  "the  school  of  the  world."  But  his  study 
of  anatomy  perverted  his  art  into  false  directions,  and  the 
Caraffa  Pope,  Paul  IV.,  was  more  than  half  right  in  con- 
demning as  irreligious  the  colossal  nudities  of  the  Last 
Judgment,  though  he  was  happily  overruled  in  1558,  in 
his  intention  to  destroy  it  altogether.  Masaccio,  Ghir- 
landajo,  Piero  dei  Franceschi,  and  most  of  all,  Luca  Sig- 
norelli,  were  Angelo's  predecessors  in  the  anatomical  ex- 
hibition of  the  nude,  though  none  of  them  equalled  him 
in  gloomy  and  terrific  naturalism,  which  resulted  from 
the  depth  of  his  feelings  and  the  strength  of  his  passions. 
Even  in  his  own  lifetime  there  were  some  who  foresaw 
how  fatal  would  be  his  influence  on  Art.  Dr.  Gaye,  in 
his  Carteggio,  quotes  an  anonymous  writer,  who,  in  1549, 
called  Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  "that  inventor  of 
filthy  trash  (inventor  delle  porcherie)  who  adheres  to  his 
art  without  devotion.  Indeed,  all  the  modern  painters 
and  sculptors,  following  the  like  Lutheran  (i.e.,  impious) 
caprices,  now-a-days,  neither  paint  nor  model  for  conse- 
crated churches  anything  but  figures  which  distract  our 
faith  and  devotion  ;  but  I  hope  that  God  will  one  day  send 
His  saints  to  cast  down  such  idolatries."  Yet  when  we 
look  at  the  dirty,  revolting  devotees  of  the  Spanish 
schools,  who  painted  under  the  black  dominance  of  the 
Inquisition,  "  we  see  that  if  the  Paganism  of  the  Medici 
and  Michael  Angelo  scared  away  the  seraphic  visions 
of  monastic  tameness,  it  also  rescued  Italy  from  re- 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  475 

ligious  prudery,  and  saved  men  from  addressing  their 
orisons  to  squalid  beggary."  J  Fuseli  ventures  to  criticise 
with  severity  even  the  famous  Moses,  in  which  he  says, 
"Michael  Angelo  has  sacrificed  beauty  to  anatomical 
science  and  to  his  favourite  passion  for  the  terrific  and 
gigantic.  If  he  took  the  arm  from  the  famous  Ludovisi 
satyr,  he  was  also  influenced  by  the  head,  for  both  of  them 
resemble  that  of  an  he-goat.  There  is,  notwithstanding,  in 
the  figure  a  character  of  monstrous  grandeur,  which,  like  a 
thunder-storm,  presaged  the  bright  days  of  Raphael." 

In  one  of  Michael  Angelo's  own  noble  sonnets,  it  seems 
as  if  he  became  conscious  of  something  which  he  had  lost. 
Towards  the  close  of  his  life  he  wrote  :  — 

"  Now  my  fair  bark  through  life's  tempestuous  flood 
Is  steered,  and  full  in  view  that  port  is  seen, 
Where  all  must  answer  what  their  course  has  been, 
And  every  work  be  tried,  if  bad  or  good ; 
Now  do  those  lofty  dreams,  my  fancy's  brood, 
Which  made  of  Art  an  idol  and  a  queen, 
Melt  into  air :  and  now  I  feel,  how  keen, 
That  what  I  needed  most  I  most  withstood. 

"  Ye  fabled  joys,  ye  tales  of  empty  love, 
What  are  ye  now,  if  twofold  death  be  nigh  ? 
The  first  is  certain,  and  the  last  I  dread. 
Ah !  what  does  Sculpture,  what  does  Painting  prove 
When  we  have  seen  the  cross,  and  fixed  our  eye 
On  Him  whose  arms  of  love  were  there  outspread?"2 

Wifeless  and  childless,  he  had  no  heir  of  his  genius. 
He  never  would  teach  a  pupil.  No  entreaties  would 
induce  him  to  let  even  princes  or  prelates  enter  his 

1  Dennistoun,  Dukes  of  Urbino,  II.  161. 

2  Mr.  Glassford's  translation  :  — 

"Gli  armorosi  pensier'  gi&  van!  e  lieti 
Che  sien'  or',  s'a  du^  morte  mi  avvicino  ? 
D'  una  so  certo,  e  1'  altra  mi  minaccia. 
N6  pinger',  n&  sculpir  fii  pilr  che  queti 
L'  anima  volta  a  quel'.o  amor  divino, 
Ch'  aperse  a  prender  noi  in  croce  le  braccia." 


476  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX   ART. 

studio  while  he  was  at  work.  "  Tanti  ingenii  vir"  says 
Paolo  Giovio  in  his  brief  biography,  "  natura  adeo  agrestis 
et  ferus  extitit,  ut  supra  incredibiles  vitce  sordes  (that 
surely  is  a  touch  of  Renaissance  arrogance  and  luxurious- 
ness),  successores  in  arte  posteris  inviderit." 

The  glory  of  Art  and  of  Italy  began  to  decline  from 
the  year  1520.  It  required  a  genius  as  immense  as 
Michael  Angelo's  to  produce  an  effect  so  powerful  for 
evil.  But  a  new  epoch  dawned.  On  the  day  that  Michael 
Angelo  died,  February  18,  1564,  Galileo  was  born. 

As  far  as  Art  is  concerned,  "  the  sound  of  the  waters  of 
the  fountain  of  life  and  emotion  had  been  dug  deepest  by 
Michael  Angelo,  opening  thenceforward  through  thickets 
darker  and  more  dark,  and  with  waves  ever  more  sound- 
less and  slow,  into  the  Dead  Sea  wherein  its  waters  have 
been  stayed."  1 

There  is  a  Last  Judgment  by  Tintoretto  in  the  Church 
of  Sta  Maria  del  Orto  in  Venice,  which  Burckhardt  most 
strangely  calls  coarse  and  tasteless. 

"By  Tintoret  only,"  saj^s  Mr.  Ruskin,  "has  this  un- 
imaginable event  been  grappled  with  in  its  Verity;  not 
typically,  nor  symbolically,  but  as  they  may  see  it  who 
shall  not  sleep,  but  be  changed.  Only  one  traditional 
circumstance  he  has  received  with  Dante  and  Michael 
Angelo,  the  Boat  of  the  Condemned ;  but  the  impetu- 
osity of  his  mind  bursts  out  even  in  the  adoption  of 
this  image.  He  has  not  stopped  at  the  scowling  ferry- 
man of  the  one,  nor  at  the  sweeping  blow  and  demon- 
dragging  of  the  other,  but  seized,  Hylas-like,  by  the 
limbs,  and  tearing  up  the  earth  in  his  agony,  the  victim  is 
dashed  into  his  destruction.  Nor  is  it  the  sluggish  Lethe, 
nor  the  fiery  lake,  that  bears  the  cursed  vessel,  but  the 
oceans  of  the  earth  and  the  waters  of  the  firmament  gath- 
ered into  one  white,  ghastly  cataract ;  the  river  of  the  wrath 
of  God  roaring  down  into  the  gulf  where  the  world  has 
melted  with  its  fervent  heat,  choked  with  the  ruins  of 

1  Ruskin,  On  the  Old  Soad,  1.  77. 


THE   LAST  JUDGMENT.  477 

nature,  and  the  limbs  of  its  corpses  tossed  out  of  the  whirl- 
ing, like  water-wheels.  Bat-like,  out  of  the  holes,  and 
caverns,  and  shadows  of  the  earth,  the  bones  gather  and 
the  clay  heaps  heave — into  half  kneaded  anatomies.  .  .  , 
The  Firmament  is  full  of  them,  a  very  dust  of  human 
souls,  that  drifts  and  floats,  and  falls  into  the  interminable, 
inevitable  light,  —  currents  of  atom  life  in  the  arteries  of 
heaven,  —  now  soaring  up  slowly,  borne  up  wingless  by 
their  inward  faith  and  by  the  angel  powers  invisible, 
now  hurled  in  countless  drifts  of  horror  before  the  breath 
of  their  condemnation." 1 

There  is  a  Last  Judgment  painted  by  Rubens  in  1600, 
which  is  now  at  Munich,  and  is  the  largest  picture  which 
he  ever  painted.  His  studies  of  the  subject  in  the 
National  Gallery  are  even  more  displeasing  than  those  of 
Michael  Angelo,  and  are  much  more  absolutely  meaning- 
less, since  it  is  obvious  at  a  glance  that  the  painter  him- 
self regarded  them  as  mere  vehicles  for  the  display  of 
his  brilliant,  but  soulless,  art. 

The  subject  has  not  often  been  treated  by  modern 
painters.  They  have  rightly  felt  it  to  be  altogether  too 
awful  and  inconceivable.  The  most  important  modern 
attempt  to  paint  it  is  that  by  Cornelius  in  Ludwig's 
Kirche,  Munich.  It  is  his  masterpiece,  and  was  painted 
in  1846.  Among  other  portraits  he  has  introduced  those 
of  Fra  Angelico  and  Dante,  who  are  being  borne  by  angels 
heavenwards. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  select  a  treatment  of  the  Last 
Judgment  more  absolutely  antithetic  to  that  of  Michael 
Angelo  than  the  tondo  of  Sir  E.  Burne  Jones,  called  Dies 
Domini.  The  predominant  tone  of  the  picture  is  a  lovely 
blue,  formed  by  the  intermingling  wings  of  unnumbered 
angels.  The  faces  of  four  of  these  angels  look  out  from 
the  sea  of  azure  plumage  on  either  side  of  Christ,  and  are 

1  On  Tintoret's  other  pictures  of  the  Last  Judgment,  see  Stones  of 
Venice,  III.  317,  and  Modern  Painters,  II.  177.  There  is  a  Last  Judg- 
ment by  Van  der  Weyden  (A.D.  1447). 


478 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


full  of  the  weird,  impressive  beauty  which  the  painter 
always  chooses  for  his  predominant  type.  In  the  midst  is 
seated  the  figure  of  the  Saviour.  The  face  is  youthful, 
the  hair  dark,  the  expression  full  of  pity  and  seriousness. 


Dies  Domini.     (Sir  E.  Burne  Jones.) 

His  upraised  hand  shows  the  scar  of  the  nail.  With  the 
left  hand  He  has  drawn  His  robe  aside,  and  points  with 
one  finger  to  the  wound  which  the  lance-thrust  left.  In 
this  picture,  Christ  the  Judge  retains  all  His  sternness 
against  sin,  and  all  His  majesty,  and  yet  is  clothed  with 
love  and  serious  tenderness.  The  soft,  sweet  colour  of 
the  picture  seems  to  breathe  into  it  an  element  of  eternal 
hope;  while  yet  —  as  it  should  be  —  the  certainty  of  just 
retribution  for  all  willing  sin  is  retained,  and  the  sense  of 
the  awful  consequences  of  sin  is  not  obliterated  by  an  in- 
tentional self-delusion. 


CONCLUSION. 


IDEALS  OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 
"  Thine  eyes  shall  see  the  King  in  his  beauty."  — Ps.  xxxiii.  17. 

WE  have  passed  in  review  the  methods  in  which  Art 
has  presented  to  us,  from  the  earliest  days,  its  concep- 
tion of  the  Saviour  of  mankind,  and  its  mode  of  viewing 
the  scenes  through  which  He  moved  during  His  earthly 
life.  In  that  review  we  have  had  an  opportunity  for 
learning  much  respecting  the  varying  phases  of  Christian 
thought,  and  have  seen  how  it  swayed,  now  in  one  direc- 
tion, now  in  another,  the  religious  emotions  of  mankind. 
But  Art  has  had  a  higher  function  than  merely  to  reflect, 
either  the  differing  temperaments  of  its  gifted  sons,  or 
the  vicissitudes  of  theological  opinion  in  the  ages  which 
they  adorned.  Every  noble  picture  has  great  lessons  of 
its  own  to  teach.  The  inspiration  of  genius  has  not  been 
thrown  away.  It  has  revealed  to  us  many  a  lofty  truth, 
and  awakened  in  us  many  an  ennobling  emotion.  The 
presence  and  the  memory  of  great  pictures  have  exercised 
an  elevating  influence  over  us,  and  have  helped,  as  poetic 
imagination  also  helps,  to  lead  us  to 

The  great  in  conduct  and  the  pure  in  thought. 

Paintings  have  stirred  our  sluggish  imaginations,  and 
have  enabled  us  to  realize  more  of  the  beauty  of  Christ's 
sinless  years  than  we  might  otherwise  have  been  able  to 

479 


480  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

attain.  They  have  fixed  our  thoughts  upon  Him,  and 
have,  as  it  were,  led  us  to  draw  nearer  to  Him,  and  live 
more  closely  with  Him.  Pictures  have  not  only  been  the 
Bible  of  the  ignorant  and  of  the  poor,  they  have  asserted 
their  power  over  the  noble  and  the  learned.  It  is  true 
that  Art  has  often  degenerated  from  her  own  truest  ideal, 
and  has  sunk  into  error,  into  irreverence,  and  even  into 
coarse  profanity.  Nothing  human  is  perfect,  and  Art  has 
apostatized  as  well  as  Religion  from  the  truth  and  sim- 
plicity which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  But  we  may  learn  from 
her  faithfulness,  while  we  refuse  to  be  misled  by  her  aber- 
rations. We  may  follow  her  guiding  star  when  it  shines 
in  the  pure  heaven,  while  we  neglect  and  despise  her  false 
lights,  which  only  flicker  over  sloughs  of  death.  Pictures 
have  sometimes  been  sufficient  to  fill  a  whole  life  with 
holy  enthusiasm.1  No  less  a  person  than  Count  Zinzen- 
dorf,  the  founder  of  the  Moravian  settlements  at  Herrnhut, 
has  recorded  that  one  of  the  deepest  impressions  of  his 
religious  career  was  stamped  upon  his  soul  by  a  picture 
of  the  suffering  Christ  at  Diisseldorf,  with  the  lines 

beneath, 

"  I  did  all  this  for  thee, 
What  wilt  thou  do  for  Me? " 

But  when  we  think  of  all  that  Jesus  was,  it  is  natural 
that  not  one  picture  of  Him  among  ten  thousand  should 
satisfy  us ;  it  is  natural  that  almost  every  such  picture 
should  fall  far  short  of  the  dim,  unattempted  ideal  hidden 
deep  in  our  own  hearts. 

In  this  fact  we  find  justification  for  the  decision  of  the 
Council,  held  at  Constantinople  in  754,  which,  in  direct 
opposition  to  the  views  held  by  the  Fathers  of  the  Quini- 
sext  Council,  declared  that  "  Christ,  in  the  glorified  body, 
though  not  incorporeal,  was  too  exalted  to  be  figured  in 
human  Art  in  an  earthly  material  after  the  analogy  of  any 

1  Pope  Gregory  II.,  in  his  violent  answer  to  Leo  the  Iconoclast  (Labbe, 
VII.  9  coll.  14-16),  describes  the  emotions  which  had  been  inspired  in 
him  by  a  sacred  picture. 


CONCLUSION.  481 

other  human  body."  This  feeling  as  regards  statues  still 
prevails  throughout  the  Eastern  Church.  A  Greek  monk 
is  said  to  have  remarked  to  Titian,  "Your  scandalous 
pictures  stand  quite  out  from  the  canvas ;  they  are  as  bad 
as  statues  ;  "  —  and  he  refused  to  receive  the  paintings.1 

And  in  the  daring  endeavour  to  paint  a  separate  picture 
of  Christ,  the  painters  have  been  driven  to  strange  and  even 
painful  shifts. 

Some  have  attempted  an  eclectic  combination  of  elements 
which  appeared  to  them  separately  beautiful,  as  we  are 
told  some  of  the  ancient  Greek  sculptors  and  painters  did 
in  their  figures  of  the  heathen  gods  ;  —  and  no  greater  fail- 
ures than  these  incongruous  combinations  can  possibly  be 
conceived. 

Some  have  simply  given  us  a  reflex  of  a  living  model 
which  appeared  to  them  to  be  dignified  or  beautiful ;  with 
the  result  that  both  the  features  and  the  expression  some- 
times positively  repel,  and  often  grievously  disappoint  us. 
This  remark  is  illustrated  in  the  picture  of  Christ  by  Boc- 
cacino,  the  Cremonese  painter  (about  1515).  It  does  not, 
however,  deserve  the  implied  scorn  of  Vasari,  who  says 
that  when  Boccacino's  pictures  in  S.  Maria  Traspontine 
were  unveiled,  every  one  laughed ;  yet  the  face  of  Christ  is 
of  the  conventional  type,  and  is  neither  intellectual  nor 
expressive.  His  right  hand  is  uplifted  to  bless ;  His  left 
exhibits  an  open  book ;  He  is  seated  on  the  clouds  amid 
streaming  rays  of  light.2 

We  cannot  accept  the  theory  that  most  painters  have, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  done  little  more  than  idealize 
their  own  reminiscence  of  the  likeness  handed  down  from 
the  fourth  century,  and  represented  by  the  earliest  picture 
in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Callistus.  It  is  true  that  there  was 
a  sort  of  accepted  type  which  seems  to  have  become  general 
as  far  back  as  the  days  of  Constantine  ;  but  I  cannot  see  that 
a  common  likeness  runs,  to  any  marked  extent,  through 
the  ancient  specimens  furnished  by  Mr.  Heaphy,  and  for 

1  Gibbon,  IV.  467.  2  Given  by  Rosini,  IV.  162. 

n 


482  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN  ART. 

reasons  given  in  the  earlier  part  of  my  book,  I  am  wholly 
unable  to  believe  that  the  Callistine  or  any  other  image, 
rests  on  anything  which  can  be  distantly  regarded  as  an 
authentic  tradition. 

In  the  absence  of  such  a  type  it  was  natural,  and  advan- 
tageous, that  each  painter  should  either  produce  the  highest 
conception  which  he  could  himself  attain,  or  that  he  should 
adopt  the  general  characteristics  which  had  most  approved 
themselves  to  the  religion  of  his  age. 

But  unhappily,  —  so  limited  are  the  powers  of  men,  so 
complete  is  our  incapacity  to  imagine  the  measure  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ,  —  many  of  the  ideals  of  the  Redeemer 
have  been  either  wholly  and  offensively  erroneous,  or,  at 
best,  so  one-sided  as  to  shew  the  influence  of  widespread 
religious  decadence.  Art  has  been  misled  by  partial  or 
perverted  religious  teaching,  and  the  attempt  to  wander 
hand  in  hand  with  conventional  orthodoxy  has  but  helped 
to  lead  it  farther  astray.  There  have  been  in  the  Christian 
Church  whole  communities  of  men,  so  little  true  to  the 
meaning  of  the  New  Testament  —  with  most  of  which, 
indeed,  the  majority  of  them  were  but  very  superficially 
and  fragmentarily  acquainted  —  that  only  the  most  dis- 
torted and  false  ideal  of  Christ  could  possibly  be  produced 
by  any  form  of  Art  which  was  subject  to  their  dominion, 
or  even  to  their  influence.  No  true  conception  of  Him 
could  possibly  be  formed  by  the  carnal,  the  terrified,  or  the 
merely  ecclesiastical  mind.  A  picture  becomes  feeble  or 
positively  repellent,  the  moment  that  the  pencil  is  touched 
by  the  hands  of  usurpation,  of  weakness,  of  sensuality,  or 
of  pride. 

Gloom,  Asceticism,  Wrath,  Fear,  Effeminacy,  Pharisaism, 
Priestcraft  —  these  have  been  the  most  powerful  and  the 
most  deadly  corrupters  of  the  true  ideal  of  the  Lord  of 
Life  and  Love. 

The  spirit  of  gloom  —  of  gloom  unhealthy,  morbid,  and 
absolutely  antithetic  to  the  gladness  which  was  the  true 
birthright  of  Christianity  —  is  illustrated  in  many  pictures 


CONCLUSION.  483 

of  the  German  and  of  the  Spanish  schools.  In  the  Ger- 
man schools  the  Renaissance  elements  which  were  at  work 
tended  at  least  partially  to  counteract  the  predominant 
o-hastliuess.  But  the  Spanish  painters  were  bondslaves  of 
the  Romish  Chuivh,  and  their  art  was  tainted  into  pesti- 
lence by  the  horrible  blight  of  the  Inquisition.  Spanish 
Art,  from  its  late  dawn,  when  its  light  was  borrowed  from 
foreign  sources,  down  through  its  more  independent  stages 
of  existence,  was  rigidly  subjugated  to  the  service  of  a 
corrupted  Church.  It  was  bidden  to  deal  with  mystic  and 
sacred  themes,  but  its  mode  of  treatment  was  ever  natu- 
ralistic and  material,  all  borrowed  machinery  of  clouds  and 
cherubs  notwithstanding.  It  was  in  portraiture  only  that 
the  Inquisition  left  the  Spanish  painter  freedom  enough  to 
express  himself  in  his  natural  language. 

If  any  one  will  look  at  Albrecht  Diirer's  noble  picture 
of  himself  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  he  will  see  that  in 
that  master's  many  pictures  of  Christ  he  has,  perhaps  un- 
intentionally, created  the  modern  idea  of  Christ  by  bor- 
rowing the  principal  features  from  his  own  countenance. 
He  himself  remarks :  "  Every  mother  is  pleased  with  her 
own  child ;  whence  it  happens  that  many  painters'  works 
resemble  themselves."  This  is  a  well-known  experience, 
the  consequences  of  which  Diirer  avoided  less  than  any 
one.  "  The  old  Oriental  type  of  Christ,  of  which  the  Van 
Dycks  and  Roger  Van  der  Wyden  still  made  use,  which 
Schongauer  adhered  to,  and  which  is  still  perpetuated  at 
Rome  in  the  Vera  effigies,  displays  a  high,  rounded  fore- 
head, arched  eyebrows,  a  straight  nose,  and  the  lower  part 
of  the  face  and  chin  pointed;  it  is  expressive  simply  of 
gentleness  and  suffering.  In  Diirer,  instead  of  this  merely 
passive  look,  we  have  the  long  head  of  medium  width,  a 
broad,  massive  forehead  seamed  with  four  wrinkles,  a  long 
nose  with  a  well-arched  bridge,  deep-set  eyes,  a  broad, 
powerful  chin,  and  abundant  curling  hair.  It  is  an  ener- 
getic German  face ;  in  brief,  it  is,  in  all  essential  points, 
Diirer's  own  countenance.  He  was  conscious  of  having 


484  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN  ART. 

placed  himself  in  antagonism  to  tradition  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  new  type.  An  Ecce  Homo  of  1514  reverts  to  the 
old  tradition,  probably,  because  some  donor  who  commis- 
sioned the  picture  objected  to  the  new  type  as  incorrect 
and  profane,  and  forbade  its  use." : 

Perhaps  the  best  ideals  are  those  of  the  Venetian  School, 
Titian's  picture  of  the  Saviour  in  the  Pitti  at  Florence  is  a 
youthful  work  and  is  not  remarkable ;  but  Giovanni  Bellini, 
we  are  told,  "  frequently  painted  the  single  figure  of  the 
Redeemer,  representations  in  which,  by  grand  nobleness  of 
expression,  solemn  bearing,  and  the  excellent  arrangement 
of  drapery,  he  created  a  dignity  which  has  rarely  been  sur- 
passed." 2  There  is  also  a  very  impressive  single  figure  of 
Christ  by  Cima  da  Conegliano  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 
When  I  was  there,  many  years  ago,  a  learned  German  dis- 
covered that  the  broidery  on  the  hem  of  the  dress  of  the 
figure  is  really  an  Arabic  inscription  (which  I  suppose 
Cima  must  have  literally  copied  from  some  Eastern  dress), 
meaning  that  "  the  Highest  Perfection  is  the  standpoint  of 
Deity." 

From  the  eleventh  to  the  sixteenth  century,  says  Didron, 
the  images  of  Christ  are  generally  bearded,  never  smiling, 
always  severe  and  sad.  In  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
centuries  the  Father  is  often  represented  holding  His  Cru- 
cified Son,  even  in  heaven,  which  is  thus  saddened  by  His 
cruel  agonies.3  In  the  fifteenth  and  sixteeutli  centuries  the 
Ecce  Homo,  the  Crucifixion,  the  Descents  from  the  Cross, 
the  Pietas,  become  more  and  more  steeped  in  melancholy. 

This  gloom  was  partly  due  to  the  false  views  of  Chris- 
tian duty,  which  date  from  the  third  and  fourth  centuries. 

The  spirit  of  exaggerated,  unchristian,  and  unspiritual 
asceticism,  borrowed  from  the  East,  gradually  produced 
pictures  of  Christ  of  the  Byzantine  type,  which  can  only 

1  Thausing,  II.  104. 

2Ltibke,  History  of  Art,  II.  180  (who  gives  a  drawing). 
8  We  have  a  picture  of  this  kind  by  Pesellino  in  the  National  Gallery 
(No.  727). 


CONCLUSION. 


485 


be  described  as  painful.1     They  culminated  in  the  idolatry 
of  crucifixes  with  convulsed  limbs,  and  gaunt  emaciation, 


Head  of  Christ  from  mosaic  in  S.  Appollinaire  Nuova,  Ravenna. 

"offered  to  the  groaning  worship  of  mankind."  Such 
dreadfully  irreverent  modes  of  presenting  the  Divine  Man 
may  be  seen  by  hundreds  in  the  hot  valleys  of  Switzerland 

1  The  accompanying  example  from  the  seventh-century  mosaics  of  S. 
Apollinare  Xuovo  at  Ravenna,  is  more  favourable  than  most. 


486 


THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 


and  Italy,  and  are  monstrous  aberrations  from  the  spirit  of 
reserve  with  which  the  sorrows  of  Jesus  are  represented 
to  us  in  the  Gospel  narratives. 

The  ideal  of  the  Ascetic  Christ  was  due  mainly  to  the 
errors  and  the  ignorance  of  self-torturing  monks  ;  that  of 


The  Avenging  Christ.    (Michael  Angelo.) 


the  Wrathful  Christ  culminated  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  terrific  and  sombre  genius  of  Michael  Angelo  helped, 
as  we  have  seen,  to  darken  the  imagination  of  Christendom 


CONCLUSION.  487 

by  his  picture  of  the  Last  Judgment  in  the  Sistine  Chapel, 
where  the  awful  Saviour,  gloomy  as  night,  with  a  gesture 
of  ruthless  menace,  is  driving  the  damned  in  headlong  ruin 
into  the  abyss,  and  seems  as  if  His  right  hand  were 

"  Grasping  ten  thousand  thunders,  which  He  sent, 
Before  Him,  such  as  in  their  souls  infixed 
Plagues." 

What  a  chasm  separates  this  Christ  of  eclipse  and  earth- 
quake, of  fury  and  menace,  from  the  Fair  Shepherd  of  the 
Catacombs !  How  different  is  it  even  from  the  touching 
sculpture  in  Peterborough  Cathedral,  where  the  Father, 
as  though  in  pathetic  appeal  to  His  lost  prodigals,  is  up-* 
holding  before  them  the  bleeding  hand  of  His  only  begotten 
Son  !  How  different  from  the  seventh  century  mosaic  in 
the  Church  of  San  Feodoro  at  Rome,  where  Christ,  in  His 
violet  robe,  looks  with  a  face  full  of  love  from  the  blue 
starred  globe  on  which  He  is  seated  in  the  act  of  benedic- 
tion !  In  the  lurid  picture  of  Michael  Angelo,  in  which 
the  pride  of  Science  plays  far  greater  part  than  the  faith 
of  the  Gospels,  and  the  gloom  of  tormenting  fury  than 
the  peace  of  love,  Christ  almost  turns  His  back  on  the 
Virgin,  who  pleads  and  pities.  The  heart  of  sinful 
humanity  is  made  more  merciful  than  the  heart  of  the 
King  of  Love.  It  was  reserved  (as  we  have  seen)  for 
Rubens  to  fall  into  yet  lower  depths  of  serenely  uncon- 
scious yet  shocking  blasphemy,  in  that  picture,  which, 
in  profoundest  ignorance  of  the  first  truths  of  religion, 
represents  the  Son  of  Man,  who  for  our  sakes  emptied 
Himself  of  His  glory,  sparing  the  world  at  the  interces- 
sion of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi ! 

The  reaction  against  this  Christ  of  terror  led  in  later 
centuries  to  the  effeminate,  languorous,  pietistic  Christ 
with  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes,  of  a  later  sentimentalism. 
Christ  is  thus  painted  by  artists  akin  in  spirit  to  Sassofer- 
rato  and  Carlo  Dolci.  Even  the  thunderous  athlete  of 
Michael  Angelo  is  infinitely  preferable  to  this  anaemic  and 


488  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

attitudinizing  ideal  of  religious  artificiality.  In  such  types 
we  see  a  miserable  and  feeble  prettiness,  devoid  not  only 
of  grandeur  but  of  common  manliness.  When  the  Jesuits 
complained  to  Nicolas  Poussin  that  he  had  abandoned  their 
ideal  of  Christ,  he  gave  them  the  manly  answer  that  he 
could  not  imagine  Him  in  the  guise  of  an  effeminate  and 
sentimental  priestling  with  his  head  on  one  side. 

Mr.  Ruskin  selects  as  the  noblest  ideal  of  Christ  known 
to  him  a  sculptured  figure  of  the  thirteenth  century  on 
the  west  front  of  Amiens  Cathedral.1  It  is  known  far 
and  wide  as  Le  Beau  Dieu  d' Amiens,2  and  is  far  finer 
than  the  Beau  Dieu  de  Rheims.  Into  this  figure  the 
artist  has  put  a  world  of  true  and  noble  thought.  Christ 
is  represented  as  standing  at  the  central  point  of  all  His- 
tory, and  of  all  Revelation:  the  Christ,  or  Prophesied 
Messiah  of  all  the  Past,  the  King  and  the  Redeemer  of 
all  Future  Time.  The  sculptor  understood  and  desired 
to  illustrate  the  text  of  St.  John  (John  xx.  31),  "  These 
things  are  written  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God ;  and  that  believing  ye  might 
have  life." 

Therefore  at  His  left  is  the  goodly  fellowship  of  the 
Prophets,  looking  towards  Him  with  their  faces  full  of 
passionate  yearning ;  at  His  right  the  glorious  company 
of  the  Apostles,  their  eyes  resting  on  Him  with  the  ex- 
pression of  perfect  peace.  He  is  not  dead,  but  living ; 
not  agonizing  and  crucified,  in  the  brief  hour  of  His 
humiliation  and  the  apparent  defeat  of  the  hour  and 
power  of  darkness,  but  supreme  and  majestic ;  not  sickly 
with  asceticism,  or  feeble  with  sentimentality,  but  in  the 
fulness  of  manly  beauty  and  kingly  strength.  His  right 
hand  is  uplifted  to  bless  and  not  to  curse,  to  help  and  not 
to  smite,  to  save  and  not  to  destroy.  As  the  Lord  of  the 
Virtues,  He  leads  His  followers ;  as  the  Conqueror  of  Hell, 

1  This  is  reproduced  for  the  frontispiece  of  the  volume. 

2  Schaase  IV.    410 ;  and  see  an  account  of  the  facades  of  Amiens, 
Rheims,  and  Strasburg  in  Stockbauer,  pp.  318-323. 


CONCLUSION.  489 

He  subdues  the  vices  under  His  feet.  The  lion  of  Pride 
and  the  dragon  of  Passion,  subdued  into  nobleness,  sup- 
port His  pedestal,  but  He  tramples  underneath  Him  into 
annihilation  the  Basilisk  of  rebellious  insolence  and  the 
mud-bred  adder  of  corruption.  On  either  side  of  Him, 
and  beneath  Him,  and  around  Him,  twine  and  blossom  the 
emblems  of  life  and  fragrancy,  the  fruitful  Vine  with  its 
purple  clusters,  the  Lily  of  innocence,  the  Rose  of  the 
fulness  of  holy  joy.  In  His  left  hand  is  the  Book  of  the 
Eternal  Law,  "  This  do  and  thou  shalt  live  !  "  l 

His  right  hand  is  uplifted  in  loving  and  kingly  benedic- 
tion. 

Observe  that  the  Lord  is  here  set  forth  to  us,  not  as  the 
idol  of  a  morbid  superstition,  or  an  artificial  sentimental- 
ism  ;  not  as  one  to  be  worshipped  with  spasmodic  penances 
and  groaning  emotion,  as  by  morbific  monks,  sobbing  all 
day  over  the  five  wounds  of  the  crucifix,  but  as  the  Lord 
of  life,  and  emancipation,  and  illimitable  hope.  "  What 
Christ's  life  is,  what  His  commandments  are,  what  His 
judgments  will  be,  what  He  is  now  doing,  what  He  re- 
quires of  us  to  do,  these  are  set  forth  as  the  true  subjects 
for  our  thoughts ;  and  the  fall  from  the  pure  and  beautiful 
lessons  of  Christianity,  and  all  the  corruptions  of  its  abor- 
tive practice,  have  sprung  from  the  too  exclusive  con- 
templation of  His  death  rather  than  His  life,  and  the 
dwelling  too  much  on  His  past  sufferings  while  we  dwell 
too  little  on  our  present  duty." 

And  the  idea  of  the  whole  splendid  symbol  is :  "I  am 
come  that  ye  may  have"  —  what?  — not  a  sickly  asceticism, 
not  an  effeminate  will-worship,  not  a  functional  Pharisa- 
ism, not  a  servile  surrender  of  reason  and  conscience  to 
fellow-sinners,  —  but  "  /  am  come  that  they  might  have  life  ; 
and  that  they  might  have  it  more  abundantly" 

And  the  further  idea  is :  "  Thou  shalt  shew  me  the  path 
of  life ;  in  Thy  presence  there  is  fulness  of  joy  ;  and  at 
Thy  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  for  evermore." 

1  See  Ruskin,  The  Bible  of  Amiens. 


AUTHORITIES. 


BOOK  I. 

ON  EARLY  ART  AND  CHRISTIAN  SYMBOLISM. 

DIDRON,  Manuel  d' Iconographie  Chretienne  (with  the  eleventh-century 
'lEpfjiTjvfia  1-775  £wypa<£iK77s) .  Paris,  1845. 

DIDRON  (aine),  Paganisme  dans  Vart  Chretien.     Paris,  1853. 

PITRA,  Spicilegium  Sollesmense.     Paris,  1861. 

Rio,  De  I'Art  Chretien.     Paris,  1861. 

STOCKBAUER,  Kunzgeschichte  des  Kreuzes.     Schaffhauser,  1870. 

MUNTZ,  Etudes  sur  Vhistoire  de  la  Peintureet  de  V Iconographie  Chretienne. 
Paris,  1881. 

MOLLIN,  Die  Kunst.     Leipzig,  1871. 

CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE,  History  of  Painting  in  Italy.  London. 
1864. 

LINDSAY,  History  of  Christian  Art.     London,  1847. 

FLECRY,  C.  R.,  De  I'l2vangile,  Etudes  Iconographiques.     Tours,  1874. 

AUGUSTI,  Denkwiirdigkeiten  aus  der  Christlichen  Archaologie.  12  vols. 
1817-1835. 

Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  edited  by  Dr.  W.  Smith  and  Arch- 
deacon Cheetham.  London,  1875. 

H.  C.  BARLOW,  Essays  on  Symbolism.     London,  1866. 

R.  ST.  JOHN  TYRWHITT,  Art  Teaching  of  the  Primitive  Church. 
S.  P.  C.  K.,  1873. 

YIOLLET  LE  Due,  Dictionnaire  de  I' Architecture  Francaise.     Paris,  1864. 

GERBET,  Esquisse  de  Rome  Chretienne.     Paris,  1866. 

BOOKS  ON  THE  CATACOMBS. 

Bosio,  Roma  Sotterranea.     Rome,  1632. 
ARINGHI,  Roma  Sotterranea.     Paris,  1659. 
DE  Rossi,  Roma  Sotterranea.     Rome,  1864-1880. 
BOTTARI,  Sculture  e  pitture  sagre.     Rome,  1716-1754. 
FERRET,  Catacombes  de  Rome.     Paris,  1852-1857. 
MAITLAXD,  Church  in  the  Catacombs.     London,  1847. 
GARRUCCI,  Storia  dell'  Arte  Cristiana.     6  vols. 

491 


492  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

J.  H.  PARKER,  Archaeology  of  Rome.     Part  XII.,  "  The  Catacombs." 

Oxford,  1877. 

RICHEMONT,  Archeologie  Chre'tienne  Primitive.     Paris,  1870. 
SCHULTZE,  Archdologische  Studien.     Leipzig,  1880. 
SCHULTZE,  Die  Katakomben.     1882. 
ROLLER,  Les  Catacombes  de  Rome.     1881. 

WILPERT,  Principien  der  Christl.  Archdologie.     Freiburg,  1889. 
WILPERT,  Em  Cyclus  Christologischer  Gemdlde.     Freiburg,  1891. 
WILPERT,  Die  Katakomben-gemdlde.     Freiburg,  1891. a 
LUNDY,  Monumental  Christianity.     New  York,  1876. 
HEMANS,  C.  L.,  Ancient  Christianity  and  Sacred  Art  in  Italy.     London, 

1866. 

HEMANS,  C.  L.,  Mediceval  Christianity.     London,  1869. 
BISHOP  MUNTER,  Sinnbilder.     1825. 
ABBE  AUBER.     Symbolisme  Religieuse. 
ALT,  Die  Heiligenbilder.     Berlin,  1845. 

C.  W.  KING,  The  Gnostics  and  their  Remains.     London,  1864. 
KRAUS,  Encyklopddie  d.  Christl.  Alterthiimer.     2  vols.     Freiburg,  1882. 
MARTIGNY,  Dictionnaire  des  Antiquites  Chretiennes.     Paris,  1865. 
J.  SPENCER  NORTHCOTE,  The  Roman  Catacombs.     London,  1869. 
NORTHCOTE  and  BROWNLOW,  Early  Symbolism.     London,  1885. 
GARRUCCI,  Vetri.    Rome,  1838. 

FAIRHOLT,  Dictionary  of  Terms  in  Art.     London,  1890. 
F.  E.  HULME,  Symbolism  in  Art.     London,  1891. 
BARTON,  Essays  on  Symbolism. 
BISHOP  WESTCOTT,  Essays  in  the  History  of  Religious  Thought  in  the 

West.     London,  1891. 

DEAN  STANLEY,  Christian  Institutions.     London,  1881. 
HEAPHY,  The  Likeness  of  Christ.     (Edited  by  Wyke  Bayliss,  London, 

1886,  S.  P.C.  K.) 

BAYET,  La  Peinture  Chre'tienne  en  Orient.     Paris,  1879. 
W.  WYKE  BAYLISS,  The  Witness  of  Art.     London. 
PERATE,  U  Archeologie  Chre'tienne.     Paris,  1891. 
W.  WATKISS  LLOYD,  Christianity  in  the  Cartoons  of  Raphael.     London, 

1865. 
W.  WATKISS  LLOYD,  Raphael  in  the  Vatican.     London,  1866. 

PAINTING  GENERALLY. 

AGINCOURT,  Histoire  de  I'Art.     Paris,  1811-1823. 
STENDHAL,  Histoire  de  la  Peinture.     Paris,  1860. 

1  To  the  immense  literature  on  this  section  of  the  subject,  I  have  not 
added  the  treatises  of  Hasenclever  and  Achelis,  because  they  seem  to  me 
to  have  been  sufficiently  answered  by  Wilpert. 


AUTHORITIES.  493 

Miss  K.  THOMPSON,  Handbook  to  Picture  Galleries  of  Europe.  Lon- 
don, 1880. 

WORNUM,  History  of  Painting.     London,  1847. 

WORNUM,  Epochs  of  Painting.     London,  1864. 

ECKL  and  ATZ,  Die  Madonna  als  Gegenstand  Christlicher  Kunstmalerei. 
Buxen,  1883. 

BARTSCH,  Peintre  graveur.     Vienna,  1802-1821. 

SORG,  Gesch.  der  Christlichen  Malerei.     Berlin,  1853. 

WAAGEN,  Treasures  of  Art  in  Britain.     London,  1854-1857. 

National  Gallery  Catalogue.  Foreign  Schools,  by  Sir  F.  W.  BURTON. 
1888. 

SCHNAASE,  Gesch.  d.  Bildenden  Kilnste  im  15  Jahrhundert.  Stuttgart, 
1879. 

C.  BLAXC,  &c.  Hist,  des  peintres  de  toutes  les  Scales.  Paris,  1848- 
1876. 

DOHME.     Kunst  and  Kilnstler.     Berlin,  1878. 

POYNTER,  Early  Christian  Paintings.     London,  1882. 

ITALIAN  SCHOOLS  GENERALLY. 

VASARI.     Le   opere  con  annotazioni  di  Gaetano  Milanesi.     Florence, 

1882. 
CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE,   History  of  Painting  in  Italy.     London, 

1864-1866. 
CROWE   and   CAVALCASELLE,   History  of  Painting   in    North    Italy. 

London,  1871. 
WOERMANX  and  WOLTMANN,    History   of  Painting.     (Edited   by  S. 

Colvin.)     London,  1880. 

KUGLER,  Handbook  of  Painting.     London,  1874. 
LANZI,  Storia  pittorica.     Florence,  1822. 
ROSINI,  Storia  delta  Pittura  Italiana.     Pisa,  1839-1847. 
RUMOHR,  Italienische  Forschungen.     Berlin,  1826-1831. 
FORSTER,  Denkmale  ital.  Malerei.     Leipzig,  1870-1873. 
BURCKHARDT,  The  Cicerone.     Best  edition,  London,  1879. 
COIXDET,  Histoire  de  la  Peinture  en  Italic.     Paris,  1861. 
LUBKE,  Gesch.  der  ital.  Malerei.     Stuttgart,  1878. 
OTTLEY,  Italian  School.     London,  1823. 
W.  B.  SCOTT,  Pictures  by  Italian  Masters.     London,  1876. 
MRS.  JAMESON,  Early  Italian  Painters.     London,  1859. 
SYMONDS,  Renaissance  in  Italy  (fine  arts).     London,  1877. 
TYTLER,  Old  Masters  and  their  Pictures.     London,  1873. 
BERNASCONI,  Storia  d.  Pitlura  Italiana.     Pisa,  1864. 
CLEMENT,  La  Peinture  Italienne.     Paris,  1857.     (On  early  painters.) 
POYNTER,  Painting,  Early  Christian,  etc.     (Small  handbook.)    London, 

1882. 


494  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

L.  SCOTT,  Renaissance  in  Italy.     (Small  handbook.)     London,  1883. 
RICHTER,  Italian  Art  in  the  National  Gallery.     London,  1883. 
MORELLI,  Italian  Masters  in  German  Galleries.     London,  1883. 

ITALIAN  SPECIAL  SCHOOLS. 

GATE,  Carteggio  inedito  d' Artiste.     Florence,  1840. 

RUSKIN,  St.  Mark's  Rest.     London,  1879. 

RUSKIN,  Stones  of  Venice.     London,  1856. 

RUSKIN,  Guide  to  Principal  Pictures  of  Venice.     1878. 

ZANETTI,  Storia  d.  Pittura  Veneziana.     Venice,  1771. 

LONGHI,  Vite  del  Pittori  Veneziani.     Venice,  1762. 

RIDOLFI.     Maraviglie  dell'  Arte.     Venice,  1848. 

CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE.     Life  of  Titian.     London,  1878. 

CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE.     Life  of  Raphael.     London,  1880-1885. 

VISCHER,  L.  Signorelli  und  die  ital.  Renaissance.     Leipzig,  1879. 

P.  MANZ.     Les  chefs  d'ceuvre  de  la  peinture  Italienne.     Paris,  1870. 

Illustrated  Biographies  of  the  Great  Masters.     London,  1880-1893. 

GERMAN,  FLEMISH,  AND  DUTCH  SCHOOLS. 

WOLTMANN,  Hans  Holbein.     Berlin,  1865. 

WORNUM.     Life  of  Holbein.     London,  1866. 

THAUSING,  Albrecht  Durer.     Berlin,  1872-1876. 

MRS.  HEATON,  Life  of  A.  Durer.     London,  1881. 

CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE,  Early  Flemish  Painting.     London,  1872. 

SPANISH  SCHOOLS. 

HEAD,  Handbook  of  Painting.     London,  1867. 
STIRLING,  Annals  of  the  Artists  of  Spain.     London,  1868. 
STIRLING,  Velasquez  and  his  Works.     1855. 

FRENCH  SCHOOL. 

MRS.  M.  PATTISON,  Renaissance  of  Art  in  France.     1871. 
WURZBACH,  Die  Franzosischen  Maler.     Stuttgart,  1879. 

i  BRITISH  SCHOOL. 

GRAVES,  Dictionary  of  British  Artists  from  1760-1880.     London,  1881. 
REDGRAVE,  Painters  of  the  English  School.     London,  1866. 
REDGRAVE,  Dictionary  of  Artists  (English).     1878. 
MONKHOUSE,  Masterpieces  of  British  Art.     London,  1868. 
RUSKIN,  Modern  Painters.     London,  1851-1860. 


AUTHORITIES.  495 

TREATISES  ox  PAINTING. 

CENNINO  CEXNINI,  Trattato  delta  Pittura  (trans.,  together  with  other 
early  documents  on  painting,  by  Mrs.  Merrifield,  Treatises  on 
painting).  London,  1848. 

EASTLAKE,  Materials  for  History  of  Oil  Paintings.     1847-1869. 

LOMAZZO,  Trattato  d.  Pittura.     Milan,  1884. 

VASARI,  Vite  dei  Pittori.     Florence,  1868. 


BOOK   II. 

The  Authorities,  as  is  natural,  are  exceedingly  numerous.  Among 
them  are  notices  (hereafter  quoted)  in  Justin  Martyr,  Clement  of 
Alexandria,  Origen,  Irenaeus,  Tertullian,  Eusebius,  Jerome,  Ambrose, 
Augustine,  Chrysostom,  Basil,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  and  St.  John  of 
Damascus. 

NICEPHORUS,  H.  E.  I.  40. 

Letter  of  Pseudo-Lentulus. 

W.  GRIMM.     Die  Sage  von  Ursprung  d.  Christusbilder.     1844. 

ALT,  Die  Heiligenbilder .     Berlin,  1845. 

DELITZCH,  Jesus  und  Hillel. 

CARPZOV,  De  oris  et  corp.  J.  Christi  forma.     1777. 

MOLANUS,  Hist.  SS.  imaginum. 

JABLONSKY,  De  origine  imaginum  Christi. 

MUNTER,  Sinnbilder. 

GLUCKSELIG,  Christus-Archceologie. 

HEAPHY,  Likenesses  of  Christ.     S.  P.  C.  K.  of  1880. 

REN  AN,  Vie  de  Jesus,  p.  403. 

KEIM,  Jesu  von  Nazara.     (E.  Tr.     II.  189-194.) 

GIESELER,  Kirchengeschichte,  Div.  I.  cap.  I. 

WEISSENBERG,  Christliche  Bilder. 

DIDRON,  Icon.  Chre'tienne. 

MARTIGNY,  Diet,  des  Ant.  Chre't.,  s.v.     "Jesus  Christ." 

RIEHM,  Handworterbuch,  s.v.     "Jesus  Christ." 

RUSKIN,  Bible  of  Amiens. 

EM  ERICH  DAVID,  Hist,  de  la  Peinture. 

KUGLER'S  Handbook  of  Painting.   2  vols.   (Sir  C.  Eastlake's  Tr.,  1855.) 

CROWE  and  CAVALCASELLE,  History  of  Painting. 

Quarterly  Review.     October,  1867.     (Rev.  S.  Baring-Gould.) 


496  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


BOOK  m.i 

Du  CANGE,  Constantinopolis  chrisliana.     1680. 
DIDRON,  Manuel  d'Iconographie.     Paris,  1843. 
DIDRON,  Annales  Archeologiques. 
PERROT,  Hist,  de  I'Art  dans  I'Antiquite'. 
RAHN,  Ravenna.     1869. 

RICHTER,  Die  Mosaiken  von  Ravenna.     1878. 
BAYET,  L'Art  Byzantin.     Paris,  1892. 
SCHXAASE,  Gesch.  der  bildender  Kiinste .     1843. 
UXGER,  Quellen  der  Byzantinischen  Kunslgeschichte.     Vienna,  1878. 
GERSPACH,  La  Mosalque.    Paris. 
GARRUCCI,  Storia  dell'  arte  cristianc..     Rome,  1858. 
KOXDAKOFF,  L'Iconographie  byzantine.     (Translated  from  the  Rus- 
sian into  French.) 

VITET,  Les  Mosalques  chre'tiennes  de  Rome. 
RUSKIN,  Stones  of  Venice. 


SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES. 


GRUYER,  Les  Vierges  de  Raphael.     3  vols.     Paris,  1889. 

M.  NICOLAS,  La  Vierge  Marie  dans  I'Eglise. 

ECKX  und  ATZ,  Die  Madonna  als  Gegenstand  Christlicher  Kunstmalerei. 

Brixen,  1883. 

MUXTZ,  Raphael,  sa  Vie,  son  (Euvre,  et  son  Temps.     Paris,  1881. 
OZAXAM,  Poetes  franciscains  en  Italic  au  XIII'  Siecle. 
VIOLLET  LE  Due,  Diet,  de  I' Architecture,  s.v.  Vierge. 
PASSAVAXT,  Rafael  von  Urbino.     Leipzig,  1858. 

1 1  have  only  consulted  some  of  these. 


LIST   OF   PAINTERS. 


The  following  list  is  chiefly  abbreviated  from  that  of 
Sir  F.  W.  Burton  :J- 

SCHOOLS  OF  TUSCANY. 

Margaritone  of  Arezzo 1216-1293 

Cimabue,  Giovanni 1240?-1302? 

Giotto 12667-1336 

Gaddi,  Taddeo IZQM-living  1366 

Orcagna,  Andrea  di  Cione,  called 13087-1368 

Spinello  Aretino 1333  7-1410 

Angelico,  Fra  Giovanni,  da  Fiesole         ....  1387-1455 

Andrea  dal  Castagno 13907-1457 

Domenico  Veneziano        .......  14.. -1461 

Lippi,  Fra  Filippo 14067-1469 

Gozzoli,  Benozzo 1420-1498 

Pollajuolo,  Antonio.        .                 14297-1498 

Andrea  Verrocchio 1432-1488 

Botticelli,  Alessandro 1447-1510 

Ghirlandajo,  Domenico  del 1449-1494 

Vinci,  Leonardo  da 1452-1519 

Lippi,  Filippino 14577-1504 

Credi,  Lorenzo  di 1459-1537 

Bartollomeo,  Fra     .                 1469-1517 

Buonarroti,  Michelangelo 1475-1564 

Bigio,  Francia. 1482-1524 

Ghirlandajo,  Ridolfo  del 1483-1561 

Sarto,  Andrea  del  (Andrea  d'Agnolo)     ....  1486-1531 

Bronzino  (Angello  di  Cosimo,  called)     ....  1502-1572 

Venusti,  Marcello •         •         •  15..  7-15..? 

Dolci,  Carlo 1616-1686 

1  I  have  omitted  the  names  of  those  painters  to  whom  little  or  no  allu- 
sion is  made- 

497  KK 


498  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   ART. 

SIENESE  SCHOOL. 

Duccio  di  Buoninsegna about  l2QQ-living  1339 

Lorenzetti,  Pietro 12.. -1348? 

Lorenzetti,  Ambrogio 12.. -living  1345 

Ugolino  da  Siena -1349  ? 

UMBRIAN  AND  ROMAGKOLE  SCHOOLS. 

Gentile  da  Fabriano 1362-1428 

Francesca,  Piero  della 14157-1492 

Signorelli,  Luca  of  Cortona 1441?-! 523 

Perugino,  Pietro  Vannucci,  il 1446-1523 

Pinturicchio,  Bernardino  Betto,  il 1454-1513 

Lo  Spagna,  Giovanni,  di  Pietro,  called    .         .         .      14:.. -after  1530 

Sanzio,  Raffaello  (RAPHAEL  of  Urbino)          .        .        .  1483-1520 

SCHOOLS  OF  LOMBARDY  AND  THE  EMILIA. 

(MILANESE.) 

Borgognone,  Ambrogio  da  Fossano,  il    .         .        .        .     1455?-!  523 
Beltraffio  (or  Boltraffio),  Giov.  Antonio.        .        .        .       1467-1516 

Marco  da  Oggionno 14707-1540? 

Luini,  Bernardino about  1475-a/ter  1533 

Bazzi,  Giovanni  Antonio  (il  SODOMA)    ....       1477-1549 

(CREMONA.) 
Boccaccino,  Boccaccio painting  1496-1518 

(PARMA  AND  MODENA.) 

Allegri,  Antonio  (da  CORREGGIO) 1494-1534 

Parmigiano,  Francesco  Mazzola,  il 1503-1540 

SCHOOLS  OF  VENICE  AND  THE  VENETIAN  TERRITORIES. 

Vivarini,  Antonio  (of  Murano)        .         .         .         painting  1440-1464 
Vivarini,  Bartolommeo  (of  Murano)       .         .    painting  1450-1498-9 

Bellini,  Gentile •         1426-77-1507 

Bellini,  Giovanni 14287-1516 

Crivelli,  Carlo painting  146S-a/ter  1494 

Antonello  da  Messina 14447-1493? 

Carpaccio,  Vittore painting  1479-1522 

Basaiti,  Marco painting  before  1500-a/Cer  1521 

Montagna,  Bartolommeo  (of  Brescia  and  Vicenza),     about  1450-1523 

Cima,  Giovanni  Battista painting  1489-1517 

Marziale,  Marco painting  1492-q/fer  1507 

Bissolo,  Francesco    .         .         .         .        .        painting  1492-a/ter  1530 


LIST   OF   PAINTERS.  499 

Previtali,  Andrea  (of  Bergamo)      .         .         .         painting  14.. -1528 
Bonifazio  Veronese .         ......  ..-1540 

Barbarelli,  Giorgio  (GIORGIONE)    ....    before  1477-1511 

Vecellio,  Tiziano  (TITIAN) 1477-1576 

Savoldo,  Giov.  Girolamo  (of  Brescia)      .         .         .    14807-a/Her  1548 

Lotto,  Lorenzo  (of  Treviso) 1480?-a6oM<  1555 

Luciani,  Sebastiano  (SEE AST.  DEL  PIOMBO)  .  .  .  14857-1547 
Romanino,  Girolamo,  of  Brescia  .  .  .  1487?-m  or  about  1566 
Moretto  da  Brescia,  Aless.  Bonvicino,  il  1498-1555 

Moroni,  Giambattista  (of  Bergamo)  ....  15..  7-1578 
Ponte  Jacopo  da  (JACOPO  BASSANO)  ....  1510-1592 

Robusti,  Jacopo  (il  TINTORETTO) 1518-1594 

Caliari,  Paolo  (PAOLO  VERONESE)          ....      1528-1588 

PADUA  (VENETIA). 

Schiavone,  Gregorio 14..-....? 

Mantegna,  Andrea 1431-1506 

Mantegna,  Francesco 14707-tom^  1517 

VERONA  (VENETIA). 

Pisano,  Vittore  (PISANELLO) 1380-1455  or  6 

Liberale  da  Verona 1451-1535 

Girolamo  dai  Libri 1474-1556 

Morando,  Paolo  (il  CAVAZZOLA) 1486-1522 

Caliari,  Paolo  (see  also  Schools  of  Venice)      .         .         .       1528-1588 

FERRARESE  SCHOOL. 

Tura,  Cosimo  (or  Cosine) 14207-1495 

Grandi,  Ercole  de'  Roberti,  or  de' 14507-1496 

Costa,  Lorenzo 14607-1535 

Grandi,  Ercole  di  Giulio  Cesave 14607-1531 

Dosso  Dossi  (Giovanni) 14797-1542 

Mazzolino,  Ludovico 14807-1528? 

Tisio,  Benvenuto  (il  GAROFALO) 1481-1559 

BOLOGNESE  SCHOOL. 

Lippo  di  Dalmasio painting  1376-1410 

Raibolini,  Francesco  (il  FRANCIA)          ....  1450-1517 

Carracci,  Ludovico  ........  1555-1619 

Carracci,  Agostino 1557-1602 

Carracci,  Annibale 1560-1609 

Reni,  Guido 1575-1642 

Zampieri,  Domenico  (il  DOMENICHINO)          .        .         .  1581-1641 

Barbieri,  Giov.  Francesco  (il  GUERCINO)       .        .        .  1591-1666 


500  THE   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 

ROMAN  AND  NEAPOLITAN  SCHOOL. 

Pippi,  Giulio  (GiuLio  ROMANO)     .....  1492-1546 

Barocci,  Federigo .         .  1528-1612 

Ribera,  Giuseppe  (lo  SPAGNOLETTO)  ;  see  also  Spanish 

School       1588-1656 

Salvi,  Giov.  Battista  (SASSOFERRATO)   ....  1605-1685 

Rosa,  Salvatore  (of  Naples) 1615-1673 

Cavallino,  Bernardo  (of  Naples) 1622-1654 

Maratti  (or  Maratta),  Carlo 1625-1713 

SPANISH  SCHOOL. 

Morales,  Luis  de -1586 

Ribera,  Josef  de  (see  also  Roman  School)      .        .        .  1588-1656 

Zurbaran,  Francesco 1598-1662 

Velazquez,  Don  Diego  de  Silva  y 1599-1660 

Murillo,  Bartolome  Esteban 1618-1682 

DUTCH  SCHOOL. 

Rembrandt  van  Ryn 1606-1669 

FLEMISH  SCHOOLS,  XV.,  XVI.,  AND  XVII.  CENTURIES. 

Eyck,  Jaii  van 1390V-1440 

Weyden,  Rogier  van  der about  1400-1464 

Memlinc,  Hans -1495 

Campana,  Pedro 1503-1570? 

Rubens,  Peter  Paul 1577-1640 

Teniers,  David  (the  Elder) 1582-1649 

Dyck,  Sir  Anthony  van 1599-1641 

Teniers,  David  (the  Younger) 1610-1690 

GERMAN  SCHOOLS. 

William  of  Cologne  (MEISTER  WILHELM)     .        .        .  living  1380 

Lochner  (or  Loethener)  (MEISTER  STEPHAN)        .         .  13 . .  ?-1451 

Cranach  Lucas 1472-1553 

FRENCH  SCHOOL. 

Poussin,  Nicolas 1594-1665 

Gellee,  Claude  (CLAUDE  LE  LORRAIN)   ....  1600-1682 

BYZANTINE  SCHOOL. 
Emmanuel XVII.  Century 


INDEX   OF  NAMES. 


ABARBANEL,  18. 

Abercius,  Saint,  17,  38. 

Abgarus,  79. 

Abraham,  36,  72. 

Adulowald,  400. 

Albani,  207. 

Albert!,  Leon,  124. 

Albertinelli,  227. 

Alexander  Severus,  72. 

Altdorfer,  264. 

Ambrose,  Saint,  73,  141. 

Ananias,  80. 

Andreardel  Castagno,  see  Castagno. 
del  Sarto,  see  Sarto. 
Verrocchio,  see  Verrocchio. 

Angelico,  Fra,  101,  117,  131,  133,  153, 
158,  221,  222,  224,  235,  237,  246,  271, 
295,  299,  302,  326,  329,  344,  377,  37!», 
391,  407,  4:33,  462,  464,  469,  477. 

Antelami,  Benedetto,  421,  422. 

Antonello  da  Messina,  135,  409. 

Anubis,  95. 

Apollonius,  72. 

Aretino,  Pietro,  245,  246,  466,  473. 

Aringhi,  86,  353. 

Aristobulus,  74. 

Aristotle,  71. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  45. 

Asterius,  57,  113. 

Athanasius  the  Sinaite,  14. 

Augusti,  400. 

Augustine,  Saint,  16,  17,  21,  35,  59,  72, 
73,  86,  91. 

BAJAZET  II.,  83. 
Baldovinetti,  130,  235. 
Bandelli,  347. 
Barberigo,  212. 
Barbieri,  173 


Barocci,  175,  176. 

Bartolommeo,  Fra,  74, 133-35, 183, 206, 

227,  260,  261,  274,  329,  422,  464. 
Basaiti,  374. 
Basil,  Saint,  73. 
Bassano,  329,  331,  373,  447. 
Bassus,  Junius,  92,  352. 
Bastiani,  Fra,  181. 
Bayliss,  Wyke,  91, 137. 
Bede,  Venerable,  16. 
Bell,  Malcolm,  256. 
Bellini,  110,  116,  131-33,  135,  150,  153- 

156,  174,  177,  202,  203,  206,  210,  212, 

246,  259,  262,  280,  328,  337,  374,  385, 

409,  426,  448,  484. 
Ben,  Magdalena,  210. 
Benozzo  Gozzoli,  174. 
Bentivoglio,  Anton,  243. 
Berenice,  81. 

Bernard,  Saint,  142,  145,  405. 
Biagio  da  Cesena,  466. 
Bissolo,  174,  430. 
Blake,  332. 

Blanc,  Charles,  347,  384. 
Bluemaerts,  332. 
Boccaccio,  124. 
Boccacino,  388,  481. 
Boccati,  150. 
Boldetti,  89. 

Bonaveutura,  Saint,  142. 
Bonifazio,  227,  330,  334,  448. 
Bonosus,  13. 

Borgognone,  Ambrogio,  241,  380. 
Bos,  Jerome,  417. 
Bosio,  219,  353. 
Bossuet,  241. 
Botticelli,  74,  104,  130, 133, 134, 149-52, 

162,  168,  169,  227,  237,  245,  274,  311. 
Bronzino,  136,  436,  437. 


501 


502 


LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IX   ART. 


Brown,  Ford  Madox,  343,  432. 
Browning,  Mrs.  Barrett,  154,  385. 

Robert,  154,  172,  193,  416. 
Brunelleschi,  134. 
Burckhardt,   117,   211,  287,  299,  338, 

422,  448,  476. 
Burton,  Sir  F.,  225,  385. 
Buti,  Lucrezia,  193. 

Spinetta,  194. 
Byron,  418,  471,  472. 

CABAL  of  Naples,  207. 

Calvaert,  Denis,  207. 

Calvi,  200. 

Campano,  Pedro,  339. 

Cano,  176. 

Caranzas,  100. 

Caravaggio,  136,  173,  247,    334,    448, 

450. 

Carducho,  348. 
Carlos  II.,  417. 
Carlyle,  10,  472,  473. 
Caro,  Annibale,  133. 
Carpaccio,  116,  150,  206,  262,  448. 
Carpzov,  J.  B.,  85. 
Carracci,  135,  157,  207,  312,  321,  327, 

329,  334,  382,  444. 
Carracciolo,  207. 
Cartwright,  Julia,  230. 
Castagno,  Andrea  del,  409,  426. 
Cavallini,  Pietro,  220,  297. 
Cavallino,  Bernardo,  243. 
Cavalieri,  Tommaso  de',  471. 
Cavazzola,  Paolo,  452. 
Celsus,  55,  70,  71. 
Cenni,  120. 
Cennini,  124. 
Cesari  da  Sesto,  283. 
Cespedes,  Pablo  de,  348. 
Charles  of  Anjou,  120. 
Charles  V.,  336. 
Charles  XIII.,  202. 
Chosroes,  80. 
Chrysostom,  Saint,  73. 
Cicero,  20,  32. 

Cigoli,  386.  [220. 

Cimabue,   110,   117-25,   130,   145,  205, 
Cima  da  Conegliano,  116, 155,  174,  265, 

451,  484. 
Claude,  312. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  Saint,  7,  12, 

38,  54,  60,  69. 
Clement  VI.,  462. 
VII.,  328. 
VIII.,  111. 
Cole,  451. 
Colonna,  Vittoria,  410,  468,  471. 


Comestor,  125. 

Conciolo,  122. 

Condivi,  424. 

Constantia,  56. 

Constantine,  24,  26,  89,  90,  94, 102. 

Corenzio,  207. 

Cornara,  197. 

Cornelius,  477. 

Correggio,  131,  136,  171,  173,  175,  204, 

208,  227,  248,  249,  264,  265,  375,  384, 

454. 

Costa,  Lorenzo,  200. 
Costanzi,  196,  197. 
Cousin,  Victor,  127. 
Coxcie,  383. 

Cranach,  Lucas,  264,  333. 
Credi,  Lorenzo  di,  130,  133,  227,  240, 

241. 

Crivelli,  Carlo,  174,  224,  225,  428. 
Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  212. 
Cupid,  34. 
Cure'  D'Ars,  106. 

Cyril  of  Alexandria,  Saint,  73,  142. 
of  Jerusalem,  Saint,  13. 

D'AGINCOURT,  42,  353. 

Dale,  Dr.,  392. 

Daniel,  36. 

Daniele  da  Volterra,  422,  467. 

Dante,  10,  19,  115,  124,  145,  152,  154, 

168,  221,  237,  298,  301,  410,  461,  470- 

472,  477. 
David,  85. 
De  Coxcie,  383. 
Dennistoun,  127,  229. 
Desiderius,  104. 
Diderot,  127. 
Didon,  67. 

Didron,  47,  99, 103,  484. 
Dino  del  Garbo,  462. 
Diogenes,  28. 
Dionysius,  105. 
Dobson,  271. 
Dolce,  Ludovico,  467. 
Dolci,  Carlo,  156,  177,  391,  487. 
Domenichino,  136,  207,  264,  390. 
Dominic,  Saint,  123,  142,  150,  205. 
Donatello,  134,  181,  270. 
Duccio,  118,  119,  122-24,  131,  145.  2'20, 

225,  295,  298,  299,  311,  329,  375,  384, 

451. 

Durand,  Godefroy,  4. 
Durer,  160,  170,  171,  191,  204,  229,  244, 

254,  259,  264,  271,  286,  310,  331,  354, 

360,  371,  383,  387,  409,  410,  434,  436, 

444,  483. 
Dysmas,  268. 


INDEX. 


503 


EASTLAKE,  Lady,  387. 

Sir  Charles,  206,  333,  373,  380,  429. 
Eclectics,  136. 
Emerson,  9. 

Ephrem  Syrus,  Saint,  141. 
Epiphanius,  Saint,  57,  84,  141. 
Ercole  di  Guilio  Grand! ,  198. 
Euphemia,  Saint,  113. 
Eusebius,  5G,  79,  82. 
Eustochium,  234. 
Evagrius,  80. 

FELIX,  Saint,  of  Nola,  58. 

Ferdinand  III.,  164. 

Ferrari,  Gaudenzio,  377,  386. 

Ferrettj,  50. 

Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo,  249. 

Fleury,  219,  271,  322,  352. 

Ford,  247. 

Fortunatus,  Saint,  28, 141. 

Francia,  131,   150,   164,  169,  209,  227, 

242,  265,  303,  408,  427. 
Francesca  or  Frauceschi,  Piero  dei,  see 

Piero. 
Francis  of  Assisi,  Saint,  106, 125, 142, 

152,  404,  487. 
Frederick  the  Wise,  254. 
Fuseli,  475. 

GALILEO,  476. 
Galla  Placidia,  26. 
Gallerani,  Cecilia,  176. 
Garbo,  Dino  del,  462. 
Garbo,  Eaffaellino  del,  442. 
Garofalo,  200,  265,  374. 
Garrucci,  400. 

Gaudenzio  Ferrari,  377,  386. 
Gaye,  474. 
George  HI.,  348. 

IV.,  348. 

Ghiberti,  117,  134. 

Ghirlandajo,  128,  235, 241, 254, 387, 474. 
Giacoino,  Fra,  123. 
Gianotti,  Donato,  473. 
Gilbert,  133. 
Giordano,  Luca,  417. 
Giorgione,  155,  196,  204,  328,  427. 
Giotto,  101,  124,  125,  127,  130,  131,  154, 

200, 234, 261,  264, 295-97, 315, 323,  329, 

343,  384,  411,  454,  460,  462. 
Giotteschi,  127,  130, 158,  220,  264. 
Giovio,  Paolo,  476. 
Girolamo,  168. 
Gozzoli,  Benozzo,  174. 
Gonzago,  Francesco,  202. 
Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  Saint,  14,  285, 

310,  334,  356. 


Gregory  II.,  80,  101. 

IX.,  82. 

of  Tours,  400. 

the  Great,  400. 
Griesbach,  454. 
Grnyer,  143,  148,  150,  227,  248. 
Guido,  see  Reni. 
Guercino,  136,  173,  175,  331,  383,  431, 

452. 
Guistiniani,  334. 

HADRIAN,  82. 
Harrich,  Jobst,  191. 
Hazlitt,  247. 
Heaphy,  91,  481. 
Heaton,  Mrs.,  434. 
Heemskerk,  332,  377. 
Helena,  90. 
Helvidius,  141. 
Hemans,  307. 
Herbert,  George,  375. 
Hercules,  34. 
Hermogenes,  5,  54. 
Hilary,  Saint,  46. 
Hoffmann,  290. 
Hogarth,  126,  186. 
Holbein,  209,  210,  303,  410,  426. 
Honthorst,  377,  448. 
Horace,  437. 
Hugh  of  St.  Victor,  142. 
Hunt,  Holman,  268,  274,  275,  285,  287, 
289,  297,  303. 

INNOCENT  VHI.,  83. 
Irenaeus,  71,  72. 
Irene,  102. 

JACOPO  DA  PONTE,  373. 

Jacopone,  142,  233. 

James,  Saint,  13. 

Jameson,  Mrs.,  336. 

Jerome,  Saint,  13,  17,  24,  25, 36, 70,  71, 

106, 141. 

Joanes,  Juan  de,  348. 
John  of  Damascus,  Saint,  4,  83. 
John,  Bishop  of  Jerusalem,  58. 
Jonah,  35. 
Jones,  Sir  E.  Burne,  230,  235,  256,  418, 

477. 
Juan  de  Joanes,  348. 

de  Valdes  Leal,  416. 
Julian,  81. 
Julius  II.,  472,  473. 
Junius  Bassus,  92,  352. 
Justinian,  104. 
Justin  Martyr,  69,  179. 
Justus  of  Ghent,  343. 


504 


LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IX  ART. 


KANNEGIESEN,  Anna,  210. 

Dorothea,  210. 
Kauffman,  Angelica,  186. 
Keble,  408. 
Keim,  74,  76. 
Kotzel,  Martin,  387. 
Kraft,  Adam,  387. 
Kugler,  99,  104,  107, 110. 

LACTANTIUS,  60. 

Lagardo,  266. 

Lampridius,  72. 

Le  Brun,  312. 

leighton,  Sir  F.,  128. 

Lentulus,  84,  93. 

Leo,  80,  101,  102. 

Leon  Alberti,  124. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  116,  130,  131,  133, 
134, 136, 155, 166-69, 176, 178, 180, 183, 
186,  197,  206,  241,  283,  287,  289,  302, 
309,  345,  346,  409,  413,  426,  466,  474. 

Leslie,  C.  R.,  323,  334. 

Liberate,  Saint,  197. 

Lindsay,  Lord,  45,  124,  127,  302,  399, 
463. 

Uppi,  Filippino,  130,  224,  225. 

Fra  Filippo,  130,  193-95,  224,  241. 

Lippo  di  Dalmasio,  111. 

Lloyd,  Watkiss,  317. 

Lomazzo,  347. 

Long,  Edwin,  267,  330. 

Longinus,  355. 

Lorenzetti,  119. 

Lorenzo  di  Credi,  130, 133, 227, 240, 241. 
Fiorenzo  di,  249. 
Veneto,  222.  [246. 

Lotto,  Lorenzo,  133,  155,  204,  205,  245, 

Loyola,  Ignatius,  148. 

Luca  Giordano,  see  Giordano. 

Luca  Signorelli,  see  Signorelli. 

Lucas  van  Leyden,  311. 

Lucas,  82. 

Luciani,  Sebastian,  328. 

Liicke,  427. 

Lucretius,  418. 

Luini,  Bernardino,  116,  117,  133,  155, 
160,  162,  166,  167,  169,  180,  184,  186, 
241,  246,  254,  283,  286,  287,  289,  379, 
411-13. 

Luini,  Giovanni,  133. 

Luke,  Saint,  31,  82,  142. 

Luther,  473. 

MABILLON,  50. 
Mabuse,  334. 
Maes,  Nicolas,  333. 
Maitland,  Dr.,  28. 


Malatesta,  Galeotto,  396. 
Mandeville,  Sir  John,  168. 
Mantegna,  Andrea,  116,  134,  156,  177, 
200-202,  224,  227,  260,  425,  428. 

Francesco,  442, 447. 
Manuel  Panselinos,  105. 
Marc  Antonio,  339. 
Marcella,  234. 
Marcello  Venusti,  184,  465. 
Margaritone  of  Arezzo,  110,  111,  223. 
Mariotto,  Albertinelli,  464. 
Martha  of  Bethany,  81. 
Martigny,  14,  23,  38,  284,  333. 
Martin  de  Vos,  336. 
Martini,  Siraone,  190. 
Marziale,  Marco,  259,  448. 
Masaccio,  101,  130,  133,  134,  336,  474. 
Masolino  da  Panicale,  130,  234. 
Matteo,  197. 

Maxwell,  Sir  W.  Stirling,  417. 
Mazzolino,  244,  334. 
Medici,  Cosmo  de',  134,  223. 

Francesco  I.,  436. 

Giovanni,  193. 

Giuliano,  150,  474. 

Giulio,  328. 

Meeson,  Luc  Olivier,  266. 
Melito  of  Sardis,  16. 
Memlinc,  Hans,  372. 
Mengs,  Raphael,  345. 
Messner,  Dr.,  400. 
Meyer,  210. 
Michael,  82. 

Angelo,  93,  131-36,  163,  180,  181, 
184,  197,  206,  227,  241,  302,  315, 
328,  371,  373,  403,  410.  422.  424, 
426,    431,    436,    463-67,    470-73, 
475-77,  486,  487. 
Michael  Angelo  Amerighi,  173. 
Millais,  Sir  J.  E.,  274,  331. 
Milman,  Dean,  33,  403. 
Milton,  260. 
Minos,  466. 
Minucius,  Felix,  22. 
Mommsen,  34. 
Mongeri,  169. 
Monkhouse.  201,  236,  374. 
Morales,  428. 
Morando,  380. 

Morelli,  134, 135,  162.  180,  248. 
Moretto,  205, 209, 214,  338, 378, 449, 450. 
Morone,  452. 
Moses,  34. 

Chorenensis,  79. 
Munter,  Bishop,  18. 
Muratori,  400. 
Murillo,  136,  176,  227, 264, 273,  331, 416. 


INDEX. 


505 


NATURALISTS,  136. 

Nero,  37. 

Nestorius,  141. 

Newman,  301. 

Niccolo  Pisano,  118,  131,  299,  422. 

Nicholas  V.,  300. 

Nicodemus,  82. 

OPTATUS  of  Milevis,  16. 

Orcagna,  131,  234,  299,  411,  442,  459, 

462. 

Origen,  55,  56,  60,  71. 
Orpheus,  30,  31,  34,  39,  72,  93. 
Overbeck,  266,  333,  374,  452. 
Ovid,  32. 

PABLO  DE  CESPEDES,  348. 
Pacheco,  417. 
Palma  Giovane,  429. 

Jacopo,  227. 

Vecchio,  155,  448.  • 
Palmezzano,  431. 
Panselinos,  263. 
Paolo  di  Dono,  134. 
Pater,  151. 

Paul,  Saint,  32,  63, 106. 
Paula,  234. 
Paulinus  of  Nola,  Saint,  17,  27,  58,  59, 

r_>:5. 
Paul,  IV.,  474. 

IX.,  467. 
Ferret,  31,  284. 

Perugino,  116, 131, 134, 135, 163-65, 197, 
202,  227,  241,  311,  337,  374,  408,  411, 
414,  442,  454,  472. 
Perugino  of  Ferrara,  202. 
Peruzzi,  264. 
Pesaro,  211. 
Pesellino,  130. 
Peter  Damian,  Saint,  106. 
Petrarca,  124,  144. 
Phidias,  56. 
Philip,  79. 
Philo,  20. 
Piagnoni,  151. 
Piero  dei  Franceschi,  174,  227, 235,  309, 

474. 

Pilate,  60,  71,  75. 
Pino,  347. 

Pinturicchio,  131,  134. 
Piombo,  Sebastian  del,  see  Sebastian. 
Pirkheimer,  360. 
Pisano,  Niccolo,  see  Niccolo. 

Vittore,  227. 
Plato,  71. 
Pliny.  105. 
Pollajuolo,  130,  134,  379,  426. 


Pordenone,  227,  334,  427. 

Poussin,  Nicolas,  144,  264,  321,  336, 

488. 

Pradas,  348. 
Procope,  32. 
Prudentius,  27. 
Psyche,  34. 
Pusey,  Dr.,  83. 
Pythagoras,  71. 

RABBULA,  354,  401. 

Raffaelino  del  Garbo,  442. 

Ramsay,  Professor,  17. 

Raphael,  83,  101,  116, 117,  131-33,  136, 
150, 154, 155, 161-66, 171, 174, 175, 178, 
180, 181,  183,  186,  191,  198,  200,  206, 
207,  222,  227,  283,  289,  302,  310,  316, 
317,  326,  328,  329,  337,  339,  374,  389, 
409,  430,  442,  472. 

Rembrandt,  247,  264,  321,  331-33,  335, 
422,  442,  452. 

Renan,  4. 

Reni,  Guido,  173,  416. 

Reynolds,  Sir  J.,  126,  128,  186. 

Ribalta,  F.  de,  348. 

Ribera,  110, 136,  207,  247,  418. 

Ricci,  Bishop  de,  405. 

Richter,  Jean  Paul,  9,  200. 

Riccobaldo,  124. 

Rio,  127. 

Robbia,  117, 181, 190,  270. 

Rochette,  Raoul,  29. 

Romanino,  246,  338,  450. 

Romano,  Giulio,  326. 

Rosa,  Salvator,  131,  136. 

Roselli,  Cosimo,  130,  227. 

Rosini,  271,  455. 

Rossetti,  Dante,  180, 181,  229,  230,  277, 
338. 

Rnbens,  176,  264,  333,  337,  354,  371, 
378,  389,  403,  415,  422,  477. 

Rumohr,  Baron,  130. 

Ruskin,  115, 118, 124, 125,  127,  130, 131, 
143,  151,  196,  197,  215,  247,  270,  271, 
301,  32ti,  337,  393,  399,  415,  436,  450, 
476,  488. 

SAINT  ABERCIUS,  see  Abercius. 
Ambrose,  see  Ambrose. 
Augustine,  see  Augustine. 
Basil,  see  Basil. 
Bernard,  see  Bernard. 
Bonaventura,  see  Bonaventura. 
Chrysostom,  see  Chrysostom. 
Clement      of      Alexandria,      see 

Clement. 
Cyril  of  Alexandria,  see  Cyril. 


506 


LIFE   OF   CHRIST  IN   ART. 


Saint  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  see  Cyril. 

Dominic,  see  Dominic. 

Ephrem  Syrus,  see  Ephrem. 

Epiphanius,  see  Epiphanius. 

Euphemia,  see  Euphemia. 

Felix  of  Nola,  see  Felix. 

Fortunatus,  see  Fortunatus. 

Francis  of  Assisi,  see  Francis. 

Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  see  Greg' 
ory. 

Hilary,  see  Hilary. 

James,  see  James. 

Jerome,  see  Jerome. 

John  of  Damascus,  see  John. 

Liberate,  see  Liberate. 

Luke,  see  Luke. 

Paul,  see  Paul. 

Paulinus  of  Nola,  see  Paulinus. 

Peter  Damian,  see  Peter. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  see  Thomas. 

William,  see  William. 
Salviati,  136. 
San  Marco,  206. 

Santi,  Giovanni,  135,  163,  164,  190. 
Sarto,  Andrea  del,  147,  173,  227. 
Sassoferrato,  156, 157,  487. 
Savile,  Sir  John,  381. 
Savoldo,  206. 

Savonarola,  74,  134,  151,  152,  206. 
Scheffer,  Ary,  312. 
Schongauer,  160,  168,  264,  414. 
Scott,  W.  B.,  368. 
Sebastian  del  Piombo,  181,  297,  328, 

472. 

Seneca,  32. 
Serenus,  59. 
Severus,  Alexander,  72. 
Signorelli,  Luca,  134, 180,  227,  242,  259, 

344,  379,  411,  463,  474. 
Simeon,  261. 
Simone,  di  Martino,  190. 
Simonetta,  152. 
Simon  Magus,  60. 
Sirach,  Son  of,  10. 
Sirens,  34. 
Sodoma,  259,  442. 
Spagnoletto,  136,  207,  418,  428. 
Squarcione,  134,  200. 
Stanley,  Dean,  16,  40. 
Staupitz,  473. 
Steffan,  170. 
Stothard,  131. 
Symonds,  J.  A.,  117,  193. 

TAINE,  222. 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  56. 
Tenebrosi,  136,  173. 


Teniers,  331,  332. 

Tertullian,  5,  13,  38,  41,  45,  54,  70,  94, 

ODi 

Thaddeus,  80. 

Thausing,  170,  271. 

Theodolind,  400. 

Theodora,  102. 

Theodoret,  73. 

Theophilus,  102. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  Saint,  82,  142. 

Tiberius,  83. 

Timoteo  Viti,  135. 

Tintoret,  131,  132,  135,  227,  228,  243, 
255,  303,  311,  315,  332-34,  343,  348, 
374,  386,  412,  415,  429-31,  442,  454, 
476. 

Tischendorf ,  454. 

Titian,  110,  132,  135,  155,  204,  210,  211, 
214,  227,  247,  329,  336,  347,  374,  383, 
429,  445,  448,  449,  466,  4(57,  481,  484. 

Tommaso  do  Cavalieri,  471. 
of  Florence,  133. 

Torregiano,  471. 

Trench,  Archbishop,  30. 

Tulken,  Van,  382. 

Turner,  131. 

UCCELLO,  134,  183,  227. 
Ugolino,  119,  387. 
Urban  IV.,  110. 
Urbino,  175,  471,  473. 
Duke  of,  471. 

VALENTINIAN,  26. 

Van  der  Werff,  Adrian,  264. 

der  Weyden,  Roger,  384,  422,  431. 

Dyck,  Sir  Anthony,  264,  376,  383, 
384,  389,  416,  429. 

Dyke  H.,  264. 

Eyck,  Jan,  48,  49,  192,  224. 

Tulken,  382. 
Vasari,  110,  122,  125, 182,  193,  220,  259, 
296,  300,  312,  345-47,  387,  442,  474 
481. 

Vecchio  Palma,  155,  448. 
Velasquez,  136,  249,  378,  381,  417. 
Venusti,  Marcello,  373. 
Veretschlagen,  5. 
Veronese,  104,  129,  210,  216,  218,  227, 

264,  297,  313,  315,  331,  334,  338,  343. 
Veronica,  81,  82,  368,  387,  388. 
Verrocchio,  116,  130,  134,  307,  309,  451. 
Villani,  124. 
Visconti,  95. 
Viti,  104,  229. 
Vittore,  Pisano,  227. 
Vivarini,  135. 


IXDEX. 


507 


Vos,  Martin  de,  336. 
Volterra,  Daniele  da,  422,  467. 

WERFF,  Adrian  van  der,  264. 

\Yi-st.  Benjamin,  321,  348. 

Weyden,  Roger  van  der,  384,  423,  431. 

Wilhelm  of  Cologne,  388. 

Wilkie,  SirD.,  126. 

Willett,  K.,  261. 

William,  Saint,  200. 

William  Rufns,  82. 

Winer  and  Hase,  74. 


Wiseman,  Cardinal,  28. 
Woermann,  193. 
Woltmann,  Professor,  29, 107. 
Wornum,  130. 
Wouvermanns,  131. 

ZAMPIERI,  Domenico,  207. 
Zenale,  Bernado,  347. 
Zinzendorf ,  480. 
Zola,  450. 
Zurbaran,  107,  416. 


A   GUIDE 


PAINTINGS    OF    FLORENCE. 

Being  a  Complete  Historical  and  Critical  Account  of   All 
the  Pictures  and  Frescoes  in  Florence. 

By  KARL  KAROLY. 

Cloth,  i6mo.    pp.  344.    $1.50. 


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of  reference  to  most  of  the  important  pictures  by  the  old  Italian  Masters.  It  gives 
an  historical  and  critical  account  of  all  the  easel  pictures  and  frescoes  by  the  Old 
Masters  in  Florence,  and  notices  of  all  the  important  legends  and  stories  connected 
with  them,  or  their  subjects. 

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II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 
VIII. 

IX. 
X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 


TITLE  :  CHRIST  AS  THE  MAN  XX. 

OF  SORROWS. 

ADAM  AND  EVE  EATING  OF  XXI. 

THE  TREE  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

THE  EXPULSION  FROM  PARA-  XXII. 

DISE. 

THE  ANNUNCIATION.  XXIII. 
THE  NATIVITY.  XXIV. 
THE   ENTRY  INTO   JERUSA- 
LEM. XXV. 
THE    CLEANSING     OF    THE  XXVI. 

TEMPLE.  XXVII. 
CHRIST  PARTING  FROM  HIS 

MOTHER.  XXVIII. 
THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
CHRIST  WASHING  THE  Dis-  i       XXIX. 

CIPLES'  FEET.  XXX. 

THE  MOUNT  OF  OLIVES.  XXXI. 
THE  BETRAYAL. 

CHRIST  BEFORE  ANNAS.  XXXII. 

CHRIST  BEFORE  CAIAPHAS.  XXXIII. 

THE  MOCKING.  XXXIV. 

CHRIST  BEFORE  PILATE.  XXXV. 

CHRIST  BEFORE  HEROD.  XXXVI. 
THE  SCOURGING. 

THE     CROWNING     WITH  XXXVII. 

THORNS. 


TO 


CHRIST     PRESENTED 

THE  PEOPLE. 
PILATE      WASHING 

HANDS. 
CHRIST      BEARING 

CROSS. 

ST.  VERONICA. 
CHRIST   NAILED   TO 

CROSS. 

THE  CRUCIFIXION. 
THE  DESCENT  INTO  HELL. 
CHRIST     TAKEN      DOWN 

FROM  THE  CROSS. 
THE    PREPARATION    FOR 

BURIAL. 

THE  ENTOMBMENT. 
THE  RESURRECTION. 
CHRIST  APPEARING  TO  HIS 

MOTHER. 

CHRIST  AS  THE  GARDENER. 
CHRIST  AT  EMMAUS. 
CHRIST  AND  THE  TWELVE. 
THE  ASCENSION. 
THE     DAY     OF     PENTE- 
COST. 
THE  LAST  JUDGMENT. 


HIS 


HIS 


THE 


UNIFORM    WITH  THE  ABOVE. 


HOLBEIN'S  DANCE  OF  DEATH. 

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By  MALCOLM  BELL. 

Illustrated.     410.     $20.00. 


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THE  BARBIZON  SCHOOL  OF  PAINTERS.  I. 


JEAN   BAPTISTE-CAMILLE  COROT. 
By  DAVID  CROAL  THOMSON, 

AUTHOR   OF   "THE    LIFE   OF   BEWICK." 
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